


I'll Dream You Wide Awake

by wonker8



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, AUTHOR AU, I'm not trying to bash characters I swear, M/M, My medical knowledge is nill, References to Secret Window and Inception, Virtual Reality, breaking up Spock and Uhura, just lots of references in general, mentions of Tarsus IV, most of the pairings will stay backstaged, potty mouth, spoilers for star trek: into darkness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonker8/pseuds/wonker8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James T. Kirk is a best-selling author with a loving family and friends. His latest source of inspirations are dreams/memories of a life he did not have. Of a Vulcan, of a Starship, of people he does not know. </p><p>... Or does he?</p><p>*** SPOILERS for STID***</p><p>Alt Sum: Jim's dreams during the 2 weeks he spent recovering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Too Late (The Melody is Over)

**Author's Note:**

> There is a spoiler for STID here. Read at your own risk!
> 
> Filled for this [prompt](http://trekkink.livejournal.com/896.html?thread=91264#t91264) at the Trekkink community, in which Jim's mind reconstructs an alternate life in his mind from birth set in 21st century due to a coma-like state. He is bombarded with images of a life he did not have until he is awoken. And now we have Jim with two sets of memories. How will he cope?
> 
> Also, based on this [video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2Qc_JHU6Ug).
> 
> Few liberties taken with the prompt.

“I would like to introduce you to our most famous writer. This is James Kirk, who, I'm sure, doesn't need any more introduction than that. Mr. Kirk, if you would?”

The woman who stood in front to introduce everyone was overly polite with kind eyes. She stood with the fragrance of someone who had never done any dirty deed in her life. Her hair was blond and straight, pulled tightly back into a professional ponytail. Her suit was smooth and pretty, not a dot out of place. She was the poster child for a successful businesswoman who had been born into money. Surprisingly, Jim had yet to sleep with her (after all, they grew up together and getting together would be like... incest).

“Hi,” Jim said, grinning at the rest of the people who were cheering him on. “Whoa, this is some crowd. When Janice, she's my agent right here. When Janice told me that she was going to introduce me to my fans, I really didn't think there'll be this many of you.”

The crowd shouted approvingly, letting him know of course they were there, of course he had a lot of fans, and of course they were going to stay. It made him smile, because damn it, this was the life that he didn't see this coming at all. In fact, if someone told him ten years ago that his dinky little stories would earn him an international fame, he would have laughed in their faces.

“But thank you. All of you. For coming out tonight to celebrate the fact that the last novel of the _Moon Walker_ series is the number one best-seller right after the Bible! And it's only been on the shelves for a week!” The crowd screams, affirming his decision for dropping out of college to become a full-time writer. “Now then, let's have some fun!”

People shouted and cheered, the live band played jazzy music as classy waiters walked around with drinks (It was actually a scene from his book, and many of his fans were gushing over the fact). Jim laughed and found himself mingling through the crowd, talking to his various fans about his works. This was his favorite part of being an author. The part where he got to go out and meet his fans. The part where he realized that he wasn't just writing for himself, but for an audience outside who truly enjoyed reading his work.

“Oh, there's the star of the hour!” his mother chimed as his family rushed over to him.

He loved his family, he really did. But sometimes, they could be overly fond of him to the point of suffocation. His father mussed with his hair as his two younger sisters threw themselves at him for a hug. “Hey guys. I'm finally done with the series! You don't have to worry about me locking myself in my apartment again.”

“Oh, you'll be back working in no time,” his mother assured him, looking at him with adoration. “I'm sure you already have another idea lodged up in that attic of yours.”

“You should have followed family business,” his father sighed histrionically, letting him know that he was joking. “Then you could have made that as famous as your writings!”

“Not now, George,” his mother scolded, batting at him with love. “No matter how talented our son is, he can't run the business and write his novels at the same time.” She winked at her son, letting him know that she was joking, much to his amusement.

“What are you going to work on next?” Alisha, the closest to his age (by seven years), asked, tugging at his arm for attention. 

“Is it going to have warrior princesses?” Rose, the youngest, asked, looking at him with excitement. “Is she going to be amazing?”

Jim laughed. “We'll see about that, squirt! I have an idea forming in my head, but I haven't planned anything out yet.” He winked at her. “But I'm always open for more ideas.”

“Well, well, if it isn't the star of the hour!” drawled the obnoxious voice of his best friend.

Jim laughed and held out his hand to Gary Mitchell. “Gary, my man! Glad you could actually make it!”

“And guess who I brought along!” Gary sang before motioning for his plus one to come forward.

The woman in front of them shone like the sun and Jim could barely hide the fact that he had just gone tense. “Ruth,” he said, firmly. 

“Jim,” the woman said, offering him what he knew was her 'I'm-trying-to-seduce-you' smile. His stomach churned at the look and he turned his focus to his best friend, glaring at him to let him know that this wasn't okay.

Gary smirked at the look, clearly enjoying the situation. “This isn't going to be awkward or anything, with what you two being ex's and all, right?” The sarcasm was thick in his voice and Jim wanted to punch the idiot.

“Not awkward at all,” Jim stated in cold calm before turning away from the woman who winked at him, as if he could still want her after the shitstorm she put him through, and his best friend.

His younger sisters at his side began speaking at once, both trying to get his mind off of the woman who had cheated on him three months ago because his work was 'trash' and she was jealous that he couldn't give her an ounce of attention due to the looming deadline. And now she was strutting around at his party as if she belonged here? What was wrong with this world?

“Hey guys, I just... need some air, alright?” He gave them both apologetic smiles before making his way out of the party and into the hallway. 

Already, he felt so much better just to be away from the live music and the people crowding around him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. Who would have thought a day would come when he would feel claustrophobic in crowds? He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, enjoying the silence when-  
 _  
“Cadet Kirk, you somehow managed to install and activate a subroutine in the programming code, thereby changing the conditions of the test,” stated the calm man (man? Was he a man? He looked like a man, but his ears were pointy and he had a slight green tint to his pale skin) in black uniform. He looked at Jim without an ounce of emotion._

_“Your point being?” Jim found himself answering, feeling a red hot anger that wasn't his own. Why was he angry? What was he being caught for now? Who was the man in front of him?_

_“In academic vernacular, you cheated.”_

_Jim's fingers curled into a fists before he calmly (forceful calm. He had been driven into a corner) turned to speak to the man. “Let me ask you something I think we all know the answer to. The test itself is a cheat, isn't it? You programmed it to be unwinnable.”_

_“Your argument precludes the possibility of a no-win scenario?”_

_“I don't believe in no-win scenarios.”_  
  
“There you are, Jim!”

The author snapped himself out of his thoughts at the voice of Janice Rand. She walked towards him, worry stitched on her face. “I know this isn't what you want to hear from me, but Jim, you need to go back in there. You don't have to handle her if you don't want to, but we need our best-selling novelist _smiling_ with the fans. Especially if you want to keep writing.”

Jim gave an affirming answer, trying to get rid of the chills he felt through that... dream? Was it a dream? A flash of inspiration? He had never had such vivid inspirations before. Perhaps it was a sign? He had to write it down somewhere before he forgot. He had to.

But why did it feel so much like he knew that man? Like they've known each other before? But that couldn't be. He didn't know anyone with pointy ears. He never cheated on a test, let alone program a subroutine. Where was that place at? Why were they wearing uniforms? And just why, oh why did his heart clench painfully at that man's emotionless stare?

He shrugged it off and went back to his party, telling himself it was nothing.

~~~~~~~

Spock sat by the bedside, staring down at his Captain's still form. It was odd, seeing all the tubes attached to the young and usually rambunctious man.

“He's going to live... I think,” Leonard said softly. He wiped his hands before collapsing on a nearby chair. “And I'm going to get my ass handed to me by the Adminstration for doing what I just did.”

The Vulcan did not turn to face the doctor at all. Instead, he continued to watch the way Jim breathed, slowly in and out, as Khan's blood took their course. “How long will he be unconscious?”

“A day? A week? A month? Hell, I have no idea, Spock. I don't even know if this stupid cure is going to work. We didn't get to test it on a radiated corpse before. There was no time and-” Leonard stopped himself to drop his head in his hands, breathing shakily. “Dear gods, what have I done? We just brought back a dead man to life. We don't know for how long, but we did.”

“It was for the greater good,” Spock insisted. He would have launched into the logical reasons why they had to bring Jim back, but Leonard cut him short.

“Yes, but at what costs?”


	2. The Joke Seems to be on Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter turned out to be a lot more Bones-centric than I first planned. I also sincerely apologize for any offensive bashings this chapter might seem to contain. It doesn't reflect on the characters; it's just the way the plot sort of opened up.
> 
> Please enjoy nonetheless!

_  
“What is it with you, Spock? Your planet was just destroyed, your mother murdered, and you're not even upset.” There was a bit of wonder in his voice. Wonder and disbelief. He looked at the other man with bravado. What was he doing? Why was he provoking this man?_

_“If you are presuming that these experiences in anyway impede my ability to command this ship, you are mistaken,” the man answered calmly. Easily. Almost as if he was scoffing at Jim._

_“And yet you were the one who said fear was necessary for command.” It was a low shot. Jim didn't know how he knew, but he knew. He was hitting below the belt. He was hitting and poking and prodding, knowing that there was a button there somewhere. A button to make the other man react. But why did he have to make the other react?_

_He stepped back away from the man, making wild hand gestures. “I... Di... Did you see his ship? Did you see what he did?”_

_“Yes, of course I did,” the man answered. And if it was any normal human, they would have rolled their eyes and replied exasperatedly. But this man just stood calm, unfeeling._

_“So are you afraid or aren't you?”_  
  
The door bell rang incessantly, drawing Jim out of his sleep. He was certain that the dream was about to show him some really intense drama, but unfortunately, real life called. He sighed heavily before getting off of the sofa which was where he slept most days (last night mainly because he was writing down the inspiration and trying to come up with the premises for it). He then made his way to the door, yawning. 

“I'm coming!” he shouted before beginning to unbolt the door.

After an unpleasant experience with a rather stalkerish fan (okay fine, it was more than one and Jim may or may not have slept with a few of them), Janice had forced him to install the bolt on the door. He was sure she also placed hidden cameras by the door to make sure that no one anonymous left him anything strange, but he hadn't been able to find proof of that yet. 

The lock finally gave way and Jim found himself staring at his best friend who looked, for the lack of better words, like a wreck. And as much as Jim hated himself for this, his automatic reaction was to laugh. 

Gary winced at the laughter, scowling as he pushed his way into the house. “Shut up, Jim,” he growled. “You've got no right to laugh.”

“On the contrary, if my best friend comes back from a night out with my ex looking like something the cat threw up, then I have every right to laugh,” Jim answered smugly. He crossed his arms expectedly and waited for the explanation that Gary undoubtedly had.

“I hate you,” was the answer he received instead. 

Gary threw himself on the sofa, belly up and his arms covering his eyes. It was a pose that Jim knew only too well. His best friend was regretting his decision and Jim was milking every minute of this. He walked over to his friend and poked him in the stomach, earning a yelp and flinch so violent that Gary fell out of the couch.

“If you don't tell me what's going on, I can't help you,” Jim sang, grinning like a hyena.

His friend groaned loudly before curling up into a ball on the ground. “Okay fine!” he shouted, obviously upset. “It's Ruth, alright? I... I actually like her.”

Jim froze for a second before forcing himself to be calm. He smiled, all teeth and no charm, knowing very well that Gary couldn't see it from his position on the ground. But that didn't matter. Because his voice was nice and cheerful and Gary would be able to tell how upset he was by the sound of it even without seeing the smile. After all, that was what best friends did.

“Did you expect me to be sympathetic with you? After what that bitch put me through?”

It appeared to be the perfect thing to say because it drew Gary out of his ball. He sprawled on the ground, turning his head to look at Jim in the eye, annoyance clear on his face. “Look, I know what Ruth did wasn't nice-”

“She cheated on me. Because I was working on a manuscript instead of having sex with her.”

“You guys had an open relationship. You've had just as much sex with other girls as she did with other guys.”

“Yeah, but I don't sleep with them at her apartment. Our relationship was only as open as how well we didn't let it interfere with each other. She slept with that guy in my room. On my bed. First of all, ew. Second, what the hell? Third, she owes me new sheets. Or maybe a new mattress. I can't even sleep on my bed anymore because of the memory!”

“You did make out with another girl on national TV when you took Ruth out for a date. You also called her a 'fat whore' and other vulgar things that I don't think I have to remind you of... on said national TV.”

“She called _Moon Walker_ a trash. Then she had the nerve to insult Khan and then imply that I was too infatuated with him to get it up for a girl!”

“Well in her defense-”

“Don't defend her!” Jim snarled, cutting his best friend short. “I don't care what you have to say in her defense! When we started dating, she knew what the series meant to me, what Khan meant to me! She had no right to insult them or me by pulling these kinds of crap!”

Gary threw his hands up in the air in obvious exasperation. “And you wonder why no one ever stays? It's because you always do this! First three dates, you're all charm and smiles. No one can resist you! Then you do a complete 180 and before anyone can breath, you're the most obnoxious son of a bitch anyone has the worst luck to meet! Then you blame it all on your series, because you're a serious author and you always have to put your work before anything else. Well guess what? I'm getting sick and tired of your bullshit excuses and you throwing out girls after girls!

“Your series is now over, Jim. You're not going to have that crappy excuse anymore. What are you going to say to the next girl? That she's not good enough despite the fact that she's beautiful? Despite the fact that she's been doing her best to make you happy? Despite everything that you love your fake stories more than you ever loved anyone else? I like Ruth, okay? I like her a lot! And I've done my part as the best friend and not slept with her when you two were together. But damn it, Jim, I'm not going to let you ruin this.”

Jim crossed his arms again, looking at his friend furiously. “What 'this?' From what I saw last night, she's not even interested in you. The only reason she went home with you was because you had a willing dick that she didn't have to pay for.” Low blow. It was a below-the-belt shot, just as he had delivered to the man in his dream. But Gary's reaction was very much different from the 'Spock' character's.

Gary scoffed in disbelief before looking at the ground, pursing his lips. A broken sounding chuckle left his mouth, accented by the betrayal he felt at the situation. “Un-fucking-believable,” he growled, shaking his head. “Can't you get your egotistic head out of your ass for just one minute to be an actual human being?”

Then Gary was gone, walking out of the house with fury and betrayal rolling off of him in waves. Jim felt a stab of guilt for making his friend this angry, but he knew Gary would come around. Gary always did. Besides, Ruth was so not the right girl for him. She was mean-spirited and beyond annoying. He would be thanking Jim soon enough, once he woke up from the honeymoon phase of being in love.

Well, since he was awake and all, he might as well as return to writing the inspiration down. The dream he had before Gary came over had been enlightening, but it still left so many things in the dark. Like the type of the world they lived in. Destruction of a planet? How did that come about? 

Maybe he would give the main character a grumpy best friend. Based on Gary and everything. 

~~~~~~~

“How's he doing?” Uhura asked as she walked into the hospital room, carrying a bouquet of calla lilies and carnations. 

“Nothing's changed,” Leonard answered her. He had stayed by Jim's side, watching the way the vitals rose and fell, all within the accepted realm of normalcy. Spock was the other person who was also there, sitting by Jim's side as still as a stone statue.

Uhura gave a troubled look to Spock that the Vulcan ignored (or perhaps didn't notice was a better word). Then she placed the flowers in the vase by the bedside, carefully replacing the older flowers with methodical movements that were almost painful to watch. Leonard wanted to try to cheer her up, tell her that it wasn't her fault (because really, it wasn't). But he also had nothing to offer when he himself didn't know when Jim would wake up. 

Or if he would wake up.

He closed his eyes, yearning for a time when things weren't this messed up. When the worst of the damage was just bruised ego and easy to heal injuries. How was it that Jim always managed to drag him into the worst kind of nightmares with his easy smiles? How was it that he always trusted Jim to make it through? Even when they were on Nibiru, and Leonard had made it clear to Jim that he hadn't wanted to be involved in the ground mission. Even when Jim had decided single-handedly that it was okay to fire torpedoes into Klingon territory. Leonard had believed that they would be alright, because Jim was there.

And now Jim was in a hospital bed, alive but not awake. And despite the growing worry that Jim might never awake (or worse, he might suffer other side-effects), Leonard believed. He trusted that Jim would get better. That Jim was going to open those blue eyes and smirk that insufferably confident smirk and say something clichéd like, “Miss me?” That Jim was going to make a 100% recovery and everything was going to be okay like in a stupid fictional story.

The doctor found that to be the scariest thing of all.


	3. Down Here on the Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now I turn my focus to this story...
> 
> Please forgive the fact that I dropped Scotty's accent. I just had too much of a hard time trying to figure it out.

“Janice! I have the bestest idea ever!” Jim declared as he waltzed into his Agent's office, ignoring the intern who was all but trying to drag him away from the room. 

Janice's sharp eyes snapped towards her intern before glaring at Jim. After two seconds of internal debate, she let out a sigh and dismissed the intern, who apologized profusely before finally leaving. Knowing that she won't be getting actual work for a while, she put her paperwork away and ignored the growing temptation to rub her temples. Instead, she crossed her arms and glared at her childhood friend, obviously not in a good mood today. 

“Jim, you are not going to publish a book about the adventures of a green alien traveling the universe for the 'best damned sex,'” she gritted out.

“Hey, be nice to Gaila! It's not her fault that she grew up in a society that isn't as sexually depraved as ours!” was the automatic response.

Janice mentally groaned. This was going to take forever and she so did not have enough time for this. She hadn't slept for two days, trying to find another 'hit' writer now that Jim's stories were finished as well as trying to find (good) publicity for Jim. Between that and trying to mop up behind some scandal that another agent had caused, she was overworked and cranky. “Not happening. You're not going to dress up porn and call it science fiction.”

And Jim was totally not helping.

“Why not? _Twilight_ did it and got away with shit load of money. _Fifty Shades of Grey_ did it and also made a whole bunch of money.”

“Okay, I don't even know where to start being offended. Did you seriously just downgrade the entire science fiction genre by trying to compare it with _sparkling vampires_ and a young and very attractive businessman?!” 

Jim raised a brow. “Oh? You think Christian Gray is hot?”

“Not the point. You're not publishing any porn. Although it may not feel like it half the time, our company do have a bit of pride, you know.”

The cheeky author had the audacity to shrug. “Well I thought that I would just ride on the rise of all the sex in literature. Besides, I'm sure people are dying to read about sex from someone who actually have experience.”

Janice closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. “So you want to write a book about alien sex. Pray tell me, when did you have sex with an alien?”

A strange look flashed in Jim's eyes before he quickly switched the topic. If she hadn't been so frustrated and tired right now, she would have pushed on the line of questioning. There was something here that he was obviously not telling her. But right now, with all of her work piled up and Jim not working on an actual novel, she didn't have the patience for it (She never did, really. But she was good at faking it when it mattered). He looked at her with puppy eyes, pouting his lower lips. “But Rosie asked me to have Gaila in the story!”

“Rose asked you to put an alien prostitute in a story,” Janice deadpanned, looking at Jim with a 'Are you serious?' look that he had been on the receiving end since childhood. “Now I use the word 'prostitute' here, but we both know that that's not the word that describes your... 'Orion.'”

“Well.. she might have used the words 'warrior' and 'princess,' but it's so the same thing!”

Janice raised her hand, quickly putting a stop to this. “Look, I'm busy today. If you're just going to dick around, then leave. We can have this argument over tea or your mom's cooking, just _not now_.” She let out a puff of breath, allowing her shoulders to sag a little. “Unless you have an actually intelligent conversation that you've been hiding in your back pocket?”

There was the briefest pause as Jim's eyes flashed with uncertainty. She knew that look only too well. It was the patented Kirk look that all Kirk males had when they had some kind of a secret that they had but didn't want (or didn't know) how to share it. She saw it on George Kirk's face before when he was trying to be sneaky about the wedding anniversary gift that he got for his wife (Winona ended up finding out about it within two minutes of seeing that look). Janice also saw it all her life on Jim's face at various intervals of their most definitely strange relationships. Winona Kirk was the best at handling her boys when their eyes flashed like this, but Janice would like to believe herself to be the second best. 

She kicked his shin as hard as she could until she heard a satisfying yelp. Grinning smugly, she looked at him, challenging him by raising an eyebrow. Jim, the little boy that he was, rose to meet the challenge without hesitation. Men were so predictable.

“I've been having these... inspirations,” Jim said finally, looking down at his shoes.

Was that uncertainty she heard in his voice? Uh-oh, this was actually serious. She quickly switched gears to give Jim her full attention. “Isn't that typically a good thing, Jimmy?”

“Typically, yes. But... they're... really realistic. Like memories except... clearer. And it's kind of frightening.”

Janice frowned. “What kind of 'inspirations?'”

“Things like... talking to a guy. Er... More like arguing with him. I've had one of the same guy choking the ever-loving crap out of me. And... another where the same guy is old beyond comprehension and he's calling me his friend. Except that wasn't the truth. It couldn't have been, because he was the one who marooned me on an ice planet...Things like that.” 

“And these are inspirations how?”

“I wasn't sure at first,” he admitted slowly, fiddling with his fingers. “But I think they're trying to tell a story. There are two guys – Wait, hear me out – and they're... Well, there's something going on between them, but it's really complicated and I'm not sure if I can really put it into words. The first guy's a genius. An unruly genius who's never believed in the laws or the officials. The second is the type to be caged by strict rules and regulations. They're... I don't know why, but they're fighting someone or something. Trying to save the galaxy or-”

“As long as they're not fucking a green alien, you have my permission to start plotting,” Janice said as dismissal, cutting him short. It was the best thing to do. At times like these when Jim got lost in his stories or his thoughts and Janice had lots of work to do, she just cut him short and he always got straight to the point.

“You're such an ass, Bones!” And suddenly, Jim froze. He blinked slowly, looking at Janice with an unreadable look.

But really, Janice didn't have the time nor the patience for this right now. The stacks of paperwork wasn't going to take care of itself, and as much as she loved Jim, this wasn't helping her growing temper. She didn't even raise an eyebrow at the almost random nickname. “You have my blessings, Jim. Did you need anything else?” she asked dryly. 

His lips thinned into a line as he shook his head. He glanced at her uncertainly, but she didn't bother with him as she returned to her work. Her hands flicking with experience as her eyes scanned the documents with confidence. She didn't watch him leave.

*

“Mom!” Jim called as he walked into his parent's house. It was bigger than his own; of course, his father was rich, after all (and Jim really didn't need that much space). The girls should be at school, which meant that his mother should either be in the kitchen baking or in the garden with her flowers. Judging from the sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies, he knew exactly where to head.

“Jimmy!” his mother called, smiling brightly. She motioned for her child to come toward her and her baking mess. Bits of flour and sugar littered the floor and checkered her skin, but he couldn't help but to think that she was beautiful.

“Hey mom. Got a cookie for me?”

“I just put them in the oven,” she explained before pulling Jim into a hug. He didn't protest against the mess, just rested his nose against her hair. His mother smelled of lilacs and earth after a rainfall. It made him smile because despite being off-planet for so long, she still smelled of-

He stopped. What?

But Winona was moving, cleaning the kitchen as she talked about her day, informing him of adorable little details. He shook himself. It was nothing. He was over-thinking it. He forced himself to smile and focus on his mother's words.

“-had a whole litter of them! Didn't you mention that your place was beginning to feel empty? Why don't you ask for one?”

“Ah... sure mom,” Jim said, offering an uncertain smile. What did he just agree to?

She rolled her eyes, looking at him fondly. “You weren't even listening, were you? Mind lost in thoughts again. Another story?”

He hesitated a little before coming clean. “Yeah. It's... not as clean as Khan's yet.”

“Khan's story was never very clean. You were always complaining about how angry you were at him for going off in his own direction instead of following your plot.”

“I'm the author, mom! He's supposed to obey me!”

His mother just clicked her tongue before turning on the water faucet. She began to wash the dishes, humming lightly under her breath. “Well come on then, are you going to tell me about your new idea?”

“It's... not that big of a deal. Just... When I was working on Khan, I don't remember having... images.”

She glanced back at him for a second before returning to the cooking utensils. “What do you mean?”

“I mean... I have flashes, mom. For these... characters. I see scenes of what they're going to do, what they are doing. But I don't have any plot or anything. Just... scenes. Really clear scenes.”

“So you should connect them,” Winona replied logically, shooting him another look. “Isn't that what you're good at?”

“No, that's not... I mean, yes. I am, but...” Jim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to reorganize his thoughts. His mother gave him time, putting the now clean cooking utensils on the drying rack and turning off the water. “I've never had such clear images. They're.... almost like memories, you know? Like I'm remembering things.”

There was a soft laughter and Jim couldn't help but to be wounded. Why was she laughing at him? He was trying to tell her that these images were freaking him out and she laughed? Winona dried her hands on her apron, shaking her head slightly. She turned her full attention to him, a smile dancing on her lips. “Maybe it is your memories from a past life,” she said lightly.

Jim found himself unable to reply. He just shut his mouth and looked down at the ground. Past life? But the dream had been about spaceships and aliens and things that had yet happened. It made no sense at all. Just what was he seeing? Was he... was he going crazy? And why wouldn't anyone take him seriously about this? If he was going crazy, he would very much like for his family to care. 

“It's not that important,” he decided. Then, to make sure that the topic wouldn't come back up, he quickly changed it. “You know, Gary says that he's in love.”

“Oh?” That piqued her interest. 

He grinned and gossiped with her until the cookies were done. They did not talk about his memory-inspiration-story idea.

*

Gary's brows furrowed in disbelief when Jim showed up at his apartment with a bag of home-made cookies. 

“Seriously?” he asked, looking at Jim as if he was crazy. “Didn't we just fight like... two days ago?”

Jim shrugged and pushed his way in, ignoring the way Gary sighed heavily and muttered, “Oh yes, please do come in. It's not like I have nothing to do but entertain you.”

The author threw himself on the couch before opening the bag of cookies. He didn't offer any to his friend before snacking on them with a faraway look. His friend came into the room, crossed his arms and smirked. “Now isn't this scene familiar?” he asked, his voice filled with vindictive gloating. 

Jim ignored him and ate another cookie. Gary stood around, almost awkwardly for few more seconds before giving up to return to whatever it was that he was doing before Jim arrived. The author continued to munch on his snack for few more minutes, giving Gary enough time to fully return to whatever it was he was doing, before beginning to speak.

“Hey, do you remember?” he asked, loud enough to be heard. “When I first came up with Khan?”

There was a crash and a loud curse before Gary came back into the living room, rubbing his hand and scowling. “What?”

Jim repeated himself, looking at his friend seriously.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember,” Gary grumbled, rolling his eyes slightly. “High school, history class. We were learning about the Holocaust and that one doctor dude-”

“Josef Mengele,” Jim offered.

Gary nodded. “That dude. And the other sick human experimentations during that time period. And all of a sudden, you shouted in the middle of class and started writing.”

“Where did I get the name 'Khan'?”

“What is this? 'Twenty Questions?' Why do I have to answer it?” Gary demanded. But at the withering look sent in his direction, he visibly deflated. Scratching his head, he thought for a second before answering. “Something about Genghis Khan?”

Jim nodded. “And in all my years of working with Khan, have I ever told you about flashes of images? Clear images like memories? Like I saw Khan doing something in those images or whatever before writing it?”

Gary shook his head slowly. “No, can't say you mentioned it.”

“Okay.” 

With that, Jim left the bag of cookies and left a bewildered Gary alone, shouting after him for explanations.

~~~~~~~

Uhura sat by herself on the bench in the hallways, meant for waiting families. Her eyes were sad, almost regretful, as she let the cup of coffee cool down in her hands. It was a picture of dejection, and she hated herself for looking so weak like this. Especially not when her grief wasn't over what everyone else was grieving. And just what kind of a sick and depraved person thought like she did? She wasn't grieving over the destruction of Starfleet Headquarters or the death of countless other members who were aboard the Enterprise. I mean, sure she was sad about it, but that wasn't why she was feeling like this now.

A cup of steaming coffee was offered to her and she glanced up to the worried look of Scotty. With a small smile, she took the cup. When he did not drop his hand, she quirked her eyebrow in question.

“Your other cup,” Scotty said, motioning to the cold coffee. “I'll take that for you.”

“Thank you,” Uhura answered. Then she passed the cold cup over, half-glad to see it go. But really, she didn't think she was going to drink the steaming hot coffee, and well... Wasn't that just rude? Scotty had gotten it for her and she wasn't even going to drink it. 

"How are you feeling, lass?" he asked softly, sitting down next to her. 

Uhura paused, pondering the question a little. How was she feeling? What a strange question to ask! Did she not look the way she felt? “I feel... selfish,” she stated finally.

“There's nothing wrong with feeling selfish. Everyone's having those kind of thoughts after all the recent events.” There was a dark look in Scotty's eyes and she felt bad for not asking more about it. But right now, she needed to vent. She needed to let it out. And if Scotty was willing to listen...

“No, it's just...” She pursed her lips. “I do feel bad about Kirk. I really do. And I want to be there for him, just like everyone. But...”

There was a knowing look in his eyes and she found that she hated that more than anything. She didn't need anyone to pity her. She already knew that this was pathetic! She didn't need any more reminders. And she definitely didn't need anyone's pity. If there were any pities to be given, it should be to the families who lost their members and not her, who was just being petty. 

“Never mind,” she snapped. Then felt guilty. Because damn it, how pathetic was she being? He just wanted to help and here she was, getting angry. “Sorry, it's just-”

“It's fine,” Scotty told her calmly. “But if I were you, I'd talk to him.”

“Kind of hard, seeing that Kirk's still in a coma,” she mumbled and flinched. Damn, what was wrong with her? She wasn't always so bitter.

But he took it gracefully, not becoming annoyed by her irrational anger the way a certain someone else would have. Instead, he just smiled sadly. “Talk to Spock.”

She nodded slowly. But really, she had already knew that. She had already known what she had to do. She had just been stalling because she was scared. She knew what would come from this. She knew what Spock would say, what she would try to say in retaliation. She knew exactly what she had to say to get any response from him, any reaction. And it was because she knew all of this that she hesitated.

“I'm scared,” she admitted. And out loud, it sounded even more silly. 

But Scotty didn't laugh. He just rested his hand on hers for the briefest seconds, giving her a knowing look. Then he was gone, wishing her good luck.

She didn't feel any braver, any calmer. But for an unfathomable reason, she felt that she could handle this. She could feel Scotty's brief touch on her hand, and it gave her the drive to go forth.

Uhura knocked on the door to Jim's private room and walked in.

“A word, Spock?”

"Of course," Spock answered, cocking his head to the side. His eyes, however, never left Jim's pale face.

She found herself hesitating again. But Scotty's touch on her hand was still warm, and the coffee in her hand was still steaming. "How long have you been in love with the Captain?" she asked, blurting out the question that she had already suspected an answer to.

And finally, this earned Spock's full attention, just as she had feared it would. He turned to look at her with a quizzical brow lifted. "I am afraid that I do not follow, Nyota."

Of course he didn't. Did he even realize that he was in love with Jim? Uhura smiled softly, sadly. "Spock, I think it's for the best that we break up."

"I do not understand. Why...?" 

Uhura shook her head. "Think it over very carefully, Spock. And you'll realize how logical this is."

She did not allow him the chance to retort. She did not allow him to see her face. But she did make it out the door before she burst into tears. And damn, she was right because Spock did not chase after her. He chose to stand by Kirk's side. So she allowed herself to cry, letting out the frustration of being with someone who only expressed his emotions to (or because of) the Captain. She allowed the tears to fall, allowing herself to feel the relief that she had let it all go, that they had the talk, no matter how brief it was.

Scotty found her again, curled up by the door. He did not say anything. Instead, he sat down on the ground next to her and let her cry. He didn't try to console her or offer any advice. He just sat there in quiet solidarity, letting her be the one to reach out for any comfort. And for Uhura, that was more than enough.


	4. Deflate (The Mystery of Living)

_"If Spock were here and I was there... What would he do?"_

_Leonard didn't move his eyes from the screen. He stared straight ahead, conflicting emotions flashing on his face. His voice was calm, an analysis that he had already created from what he knew about the hobgoblin in his mind. He knew without hesitation what Spock would do. And perhaps Jim should have expected his friend to say this, but he wanted to hear it. He needed someone else to confirm the conclusion that he had also arrived on._

_"He'd let you die."_

_Jim was not a Vulcan. He didn't know what it was like to have a gridlock on his emotions. Not like the way Spock did. Never had an entire culture pushing him to be one thing, to conform, to hide what he was. He had people, a long time ago, expecting him to be the perfect hero's son, to mirror his father. But he had learned how to destroy their expectations. He knew what to say, what to do, to make sure no one expected anything good out of him anymore._

_But Spock wasn't like that. Spock didn't know, didn't act. He followed the rules that were given to him, abided by them with the strictest sense of moral justice, ignoring what he felt. But Jim knew what he felt. He knew the protocol that Spock would sprout at him. He knew what kind of trouble he would be in if he went ahead with this._

_And he knew without a question of doubt that there was no such thing as a no-win scenario._

_He was not going to let Spock die. It didn't matter what the Vulcan would have done in this situation. Because Spock was not here. Spock was not the one calling the shot. He wasn't the Captain. Jim was. And he was not going to let anyone die. Not even Spock. Not even knowing that Spock would have let him die. Not even if everyone knew that Spock would have let him die._  
  
*

Alisha kicked at the door when her silly brother refused to open the door after the fifth time that she rang the doorbell. She sighed a little and rearranged the puppy in her arms, making sure that it couldn't get away (The puppy was her mother's idea. She had been worried that her son was overworking himself, especially since he hadn't tried to contact any of them for the last three days. Being the good girl, Alisha had picked up the young puppy from their neighbor for her brother after school and made her way over). Then and only then did she pull out her phone to call Janice.

“Hello?” the agent answered, sounding tired. She was probably taking a few minutes of nap, Alisha thought with slight guilt. But this was important. More important than Janice and her beauty nap, anyways (In actuality, Alisha knew that this was more like Janice's one time to sleep after pulling couple of all-nighters).

“Hey Janice, it's Alisha. I'm at my brother's place right now.”

Suddenly, there was rustling sound and from the sound of Janice's voice, Alisha knew she had the agent's full attention. “Is Jim okay?” Janice asked automatically. “He hadn't been answering any phone calls I've been making. I figured he was writing his new ideas down, but he usually answers after the thirteenth one.”

“He's not answering the doorbell. Do you mind coming over with the spare keys? I left mine at home.”

“I'll be over in five.”

*  
 _  
“Captain Kirk? Science Officer Wallace. I've been assigned to the Enterprise by Admiral Marcus. These are my transfer orders,” said a pretty blond, who handed a PADD over to Jim with a charming smile._

_“You requested an additional Science Officer, Captain?” There was surprise in his voice. And it would be lying if Jim said that he didn't feel a certain feeling of vindicative justice._

_He gave Spock a smirk. “I wish I had.” Then he turned his attention to the PADD. “Lieutenant Carol Wallace...” With that, he read her credentials, impressed by her weaponry background. She was different from Spock and that was important. Spock was a pacifist. His knowledge of weapons may be impressive, but she lived and breathed weapons. The same way Scotty breathed engines and Leonard breathed medicine._

_“Impressive credentials.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_It was kind of cute how she took Spock's words as a compliment._

_“But redundant now that I'm back on the Enterprise,” Spock claimed, applying the finishing blow with a curt manner that was surprising for a Vulcan._

_Jim just had to step in. Couldn't let Spock break the shiny new toy he just received from the Admiral. That would be just rude. Not to mention, Spock turned a cute shade of green when he was mercilessly teased. “Yet the more the merrier.” He smirked once more at Spock, enjoying the look of muted irritation._

_And he knew he shouldn't, but damn it, he couldn't help but to be hopeful. Maybe Spock really did care. It was a dangerous hope, but Jim couldn't help but to hang tightly on to it._  
  
*

Janice arrived in 3 minutes and 20 seconds, actually. Not that Alisha was timing it or anything. But the sleek silver Audi pulled up into the driveway of the apartment complex, almost haphazardly parked, before Janice walked out of the car, calm and poised as always. She walked purposefully forward and up the stairs until she spotted and greeted Alisha, not a single hair out of place. The only hint that something was not okay was the faint bags under Janice's eyes that she couldn't fully hide, even with professional makeup. 

“Didn't answer at all?” she asked.

Alisha shook her head. “No answer,” she affirmed, holding the puppy to keep it from squirming out of her hold.

“What's with the pup?”

“For Jim. As a cheer-up present.”

“Is he still down about the inspiration or something?”

Alisha shrugged, trying to be nonchalant. But Janice could see the traces of worry in the movement, the concealed fear. “No clue. He's inside and we're out here. But that's pretty much my guess. Either that or he's having a delayed reaction to the whole Gary and Ruth thing. ”

With a sigh, Janice nodded. “Then we better go in.”

*  
 _  
“I will go with you, Captain,” Spock informed him as he walked after him._

_How odd it was that despite always quoting regulations, Spock was always willing to overlook that both the Captain and the First Officer couldn't go on a life-threatening mission together. Jim shook his head. “No. I need you on the bridge.”_

_“I cannot allow you to do this. It is my function aboard the ship to advise you in making the wisest decisions possible. Something I firmly believe you are incapable of doing in this moment,” Spock pointed out, using that damned logic of his to outwit Jim again._

_And as much as he hated it, Spock was right. He was in no position to make a wise decisions. Thought that maybe he lost that ability the moment Pike informed him that they took away his ship. But damn it, this was the only thing he could think of and time was so little and precious..._

_“You're right! What I am about to do, it doesn't make sense. It's not logical; it is a gut feeling! I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. I only know what I can do. The Enterprise and her crew needs someone on that chair who knows what he's doing.” And sudden realization filled his senses. A sudden feeling of foreboding. “And that's not me.”_

_My god, why hadn't he realized this earlier? Why hadn't he seen this? None of this would have happened if Spock had been in charge. None of it. If only Jim had been more measured, more_ logical _... How many times had everyone had waved red flags in his face, telling him_ No, please don't do this, Captain _? How many times was he going to keep disappointing everyone? For how much longer should he risk everyone else's lives when the choice was obvious?_

 _“It's you, Spock.”_  
  
*

They walked in to a mess. That was the best way to describe it. Photos and papers were scattered everywhere, some ripped and others scribbled upon. There were overturned furnitures and destroyed items, all tossed about carelessly as if someone had been through a fit of rage. Had the place been ravaged by angry fans? Or perhaps Jim was just having a bad day? But even for Jim, this was excessive. Sure, he took his anger out on things before, but to completely trash everything...?

“Jim?” Alisha called, hesitant. Janice didn't blame her at all.

“James Tiberius Kirk!” Janice shouted instead, taking over in her no-nonsense 'I'm-your-agent-you'll-obey-me' voice that she has mastered thanks to Jim. “Get your ass over here this instant!”

There was no actual answer. Just a loud noise of something breaking followed by a curse. The two glanced at one another before carefully making their way towards the sound. The hallway was littered with broken picture frames, pieces of glass, and droplets of blood. Janice could feel dread even before she saw Jim.

Her childhood friend was in the corner of the room, curled into a small ball, hands clutching his head. The room was in the same sorry state as the rest of the apartment, ruined and in tatters. She did not miss the spots of blood here and there that must have been the result of Jim's fits of rage. But it made no sense. Why did he do this? Why was he like this?

“Jim?” Alisha asked from behind her. She clutched at the puppy tightly, and for whatever reason, even the puppy seemed to realize how horrible the situation was, because it wasn't trying to wiggle out anymore. It just whimpered softly, burying its nose under the crook of Alisha's arm.

Right. The little sister.

“Alisha, call a doctor,” Janice said quietly, hoping that would distract her long enough to deal with the problem at hand.

When Alisha nodded, looking pale and frightened, and turned away, Janice returned her attention back to her friend. She took slow steps towards him, telegraphing every move she was going to make, just to make sure not to spook him. When she was a good five feet away, she stopped into a crouch, making sure nothing but her shoes touched the wooden splinters on the ground.

“Jim?” she called, softly but firmly.

He glanced up slowly, looking at her without an ounce of recognition.

“Jim? Are you okay? What happened?”

There was another pause of silence before Jim's eyes lit up, finally seeing Janice there. He blinked slowly, letting his hands fall to his side. “Janice?” he asked, his voice hoarse as if he had been screaming.

“Yes, it's me. Tell me what happened. What's going on?”

“Janice, make it stop,” Jim whispered. His eyes were conflicted, and now that she focused, his eyes were red-rimmed as if he had been crying. And maybe he had been. Who knew what he had been doing for the last three days?

“Stop what? Jim, you're going to have to talk to me. What happened?”

“The dreams... The... images...”

“Your inspirations?” Janice asked, fighting down the urge to panic.

Jim nodded, eyes shutting tightly closed. He brought his fists up (bloody, Janice noticed with a pang of fear), and smacked them against his head, trying to stop the images that only he could see. “Make the damned things stop! I don't want to see it! I don't want to see it!”

Janice didn't know what to do. She was an agent, damn it! And not a doctor. What the hell were you supposed to do when your friend was having a severe panic attack? She read somewhere that you were supposed to anchor people when they were freaking out. Perhaps that would help?

“Your name is James Tiberius Kirk." She looked at Jim, willing him to look back at her. And with as calm and even voice as she could muster, she continued. “You are the son of George and Winona Kirk, both of whom loves you very much. You have two younger sisters, Alisha and Rose. They also love you and care for you. You are a great writer. Have always been a great writer. I am your childhood friend, Janice Rand, and I am your agent. Recently, you finished your series _Moon Walker_ featuring a man named Khan Noonien Singh, a superior form of human. You are adored by the masses and despite being a dick most of the time, you can be pretty cool to hang out with.”

Jim seemed to be listening, judging by the way he stopped smacking his head. But he didn't open his eyes. Just kept them screwed shut, waiting for Janice to continue.

“Your best friend is named Gary Mitchell. I don't know why you're friends with that guy. Probably because you're both assholes. You guys met in middle school and have been friends ever since. He's always been by your side, even followed you to college... and then followed you out of college when you quit to write your novels.”

“I'm okay,” Jim said, stopping her. He opened his blue eyes, looking at her. “I'm okay now.”

Janice pursed her lips. “No, you're not. Jim, exactly what is it about these... inspirations that bug you so much?”

He shook his head, dropping his hand again. He glanced at them, noticing the blood from all the abuse he no doubt put them under to wreck the house. “They're just... really clear. Like HD TV clear.”

“But that's not the only thing that bothers you. What else, Jim?”

Jim took his time answering. He closed his eyes for a second, gulping loudly. Then he opened his eyes, looking at Janice with a slice of fear and reluctant acceptance. 

“They feature me. Almost like I'm the one experiencing them. Like I'm just reviewing my memories."

"But didn't you say that the images were-"

He nodded, cutting her short. "Set in the future. There's no way it can be me."

Janice sighed softly, ready to say something to comfort her friend when he finished his train of thought.

"... Right?"


	5. The Most Heartless Fashion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found a creepypasta that sort of reminds me of this story. It's called '[Wake Up](http://www.scaryforkids.com/wake-up/)' and it's not all that scary at all. Check it out in the daylight, if you're ever bored.
> 
> That said, after this chapter, a certain superhuman is going to make an entrance.

Gary burst through the doors, all but running towards the rest of the group that had been gathered there. He waved a magazine in the air, seething and gasping for breath all at once as he tried to organize his thoughts.

“Why didn't you tell me?!” he exclaimed finally, in between gasps. And once he finally could breath again, he turned to glare at Kirk's family and Janice Rand, waving the magazine in the air again. “Why the hell didn't anyone tell me? Why did I have to find out about this through the newspaper?”

Winona glared at Gary at the usage of his curse word in front of her daughters. But he was beyond caring at this moment in time. He wanted to know why. He was Jim's best friend, damn it! Why hadn't anyone told him that Jim was in the psych ward after a mental breakdown? Why had the paparazzi beaten him to knowing about his best friend's condition?

“Maybe if you'd stop shagging his ex, you'd have heard something,” Rose said innocently, giving everyone wide-eyed look that only a child could muster (Jim's influence, Gary suspected. Jim and his horn-dog ways were infecting his cute little sisters). 

Gary looked at her with his mouth open while Winona chastised her youngest child (he didn't point out that it looked a lot more like Winona was praising her, especially with the way Rose just smirked and puffed out her chest). Instead, he just gnashed his teeth together (finally closing his mouth) and turned to Janice, who he could always trust to be level-headed.

“What Rose said,” was all she had to offer him.

“Are you serious?” he demanded, looking at all of them.

“Well I'm not the one hooking up with my best friend's ex, now am I?” George grumbled, shooting Gary not exactly a friendly look. How odd. For all the time that Gary had been friends with Jim, that look had never been directed at him. He had never imagined that it could be directed at him. Did everyone think that him and Ruth getting together was bad? 

“Please,” a nurse said as she walked over to them, sounding exasperated as if she had said this multiple times to this group. “Would you all just calm down and stay _quiet_?”

Silence greeted the nurse, which she took to mean that they agreed. She left, throwing her hands up in the air, which really wasn't all that professional, but she was probably overworked and was getting sick and tired of rowdy crowds. Gary turned to look at the rest of the group, who just all stubbornly didn't look at him. 

Damn Kirks and their mule-like behaviors (he ignored that Janice didn't count as a Kirk). 

With a heavy sigh, he sat down next to Janice, pulling the magazine onto his lap. The headline read, “Famous Sci-Fi Author Loses Mind to Aliens.” They probably thought it was cute or something.

But all Gary could do was bite his nails nervously and hope to God that his best friend was going to be alright.

*

“Brain tumor?” he repeated the doctor as if he was talking to a specially slow child. “You're telling me that I have _brain tumor_.” 

This had to some kind of a sick joke. Either that or those crappy surprise camera shows that Alisha liked to watch. There was just no way that he had brain tumor. I mean... Come on! He was 28, young and not even at the prime of his youth. There was no family history and he had no radiation to his head (or anywhere near his body) when he was a child. This made absolutely no sense that he had brain tumor. At all.

“Have you been having headaches?” the doctor began.

“Yes. I already told you. Sometimes the inspirations or whatever is really vivid and I get headaches. But come on! Everyone gets headaches. That's just like... fact of life.”

“Yes, but you also also seem to have problem with your memory center,” the doctor pointed out. “Hallucinations, mixing fact with fiction.”

“I'm a writer. I have a wonky brain. Plenty of creative people mix fact with fiction. It's not a tumor,” Jim replied stubbornly, crossing his arms to emphasize his point.

“I believe your sister expressed concern about your place? How it was completely trashed?”

His jaws clenched tightly before he forced out, “ _I fell._ ”

“Due to a minor seizure,” the doctor finished. “After which, you completely trashed the rest of your apartment because you couldn't remember where you were.”

“I knew exactly where I was. I just...” Jim cut himself short. _I just thought that this wasn't real. That this couldn't be real, because my real life, my real friends are waiting for me. The Enterprise is waiting for me._ It probably wasn't wisest thing to say out loud. So instead, he looked away, closing his eyes for a second to try and calm down. Because of course this was real. He was where he always belonged, with his family and friends, trying to write a novel. There was nothing strange or wrong about this except for the fact that apparently he had a brain tumor. He was exactly where he belonged.

Then why the hell did he feel a longing for that alien he saw in his dreams? Why did he want to be with Spock? Why did he crave to be aboard the Enterprise, feel her engines purring under his skin? What was wrong with him?

“Okay fine. But all of these can be explained by something else. It's not a tumor.”

“Except that we've done an MRI and a CAT scan and we've found it,” the doctor said, half empathetic and half pityingly. 

“What the hell? I never gave an okay for a scan! You can't just-”

“Your parents allowed it,” he continued, as if Jim hadn't spoken. “And due to the fact that you weren't... exactly right in the head at the moment in time, we deferred to them for a decision.”

“Oh yeah. Just talk to my parents. Why are you even bothering to tell me that I have a brain tumor? You can just ask them what they think I want and let them decide the rest. I mean, it's not like it's my life or anything,” Jim grumbled. He hadn't meant to sound so petty, but this was his life, damn it! It was his life and it shouldn't be someone else's call. Wasn't it bad enough Bones did that most of the time? Did he really have to-

He forced that train of thought to stop. What the hell was he thinking? Bones? He didn't exist.

“We've already told them,” the doctor continued. In a voice that was both patronizing and apologetic (Bones could do that perfectly well. Whenever Jim did something stupid, Bones would get that look on his face and- Damn it! Bones did not exist! Bones did not exist!). “And lucky for you, it's a benign brain tumor, which means that it isn't cancerous and it'll be easily removed without much damage to you.”

“So basically you can get rid of it and I won't suffer any aftereffects?” Jim asked, incredulous. No way. There was no way that it was going to be that easy. It was a brain tumor, for Pete's sake! People didn't just walk away from brain damage like that.

“There will, of course, be side-effects, but it shouldn't be anything major, as long as we operate quickly.” Then the doctor paused to look at Jim, as if waiting for something.

The blonde shot him a look of 'Are you shitting me?' Because what was the doctor waiting for? If the brain tumor was easily removed, why did he hesitate? It wasn't like Jim didn't have the money to pay for the operation or something. This hesitation made no sense.

“What?” he demanded, finally annoyed.

“Well... it's just... You called them your inspirations. If we get rid of the tumor, you won't see them anymore.”

Jim found himself taking a sharp intake of breath. Never have those inspirations anymore? But that would mean that he wouldn't see Spock. He wouldn't be able to dream about being in outer space, being on the Enterprise. He wouldn't be able to see any of his crew, any of the beings that he came to associate with his inspirations. 

But wouldn't this be worth it? He wouldn't be thinking that he was going crazy anymore. He would have a normal life again. He could enjoy being with his family without being distracted by a strange feeling of _something missing_ (or someone, he suspected). He didn't have to yearn for a man he didn't even know (or at least he didn't know in this world. His dream self seemed to know Spock pretty well). He didn't have to feel like a chunk of his life was missing. All because of a brain tumor.

“Do it.”

The doctor looked at him carefully before nodding slowly. “Of course.”

~~~~~~~

“Commander Spock, I really zhink you need some rest,” Chekov said, his shoulders back as he tried to make himself look intimating in front of Spock. Sulu stood next to him, looking just as fierce, unwilling to back down.

“Negative, Lieutenant. As I am a Vulcan, I do not need as much rest and food as a human. I can stay by the Captain's side without suffering from any consequences,” Spock stated, barely glancing over at them.

“That may be so,” Sulu said, calmly and coolly. “But you've been here by the Captain's side since Doctor McCoy stabilized him. It has been over a week and he hasn't awaken yet. I'm sure he's going to be fine if you're missing for a few hours to catch a nap and get some food.”

“I will not leave the Captain alone,” Spock said. There was slight tightness in his voice. Almost as if he was angry that someone could even dare suggest that they let Jim be by himself.

“I vill be here,” Chekov said quickly. He and Sulu shared a glance. “I vill be by zhe Keptin. Please zake a rest, Commander.”

“It will be the logical thing to do,” Sulu added quickly. 

Spock looked torn from arguing and agreeing. And with the final push, he gave up with a "Please contact me if there is any change in his condition." Huh. This situation must have impacted the Vulcan a lot more than he let on. Chekov waved goodbye and wished Sulu luck as the Asian led the Vulcan away from Jim's hospital door, determined to make sure that Spock got some food in him before he went and rested. And with them gone, Chekov found himself sitting next to Jim's bed, a small smile on his face.

“Hello, Keptin,” he whispered softly. In the empty room, his voice seemed to echo eerily. He wondered how Spock hadn't lost his mind just sitting here, next to Jim, waiting for some kind of a reaction.

“Ve're doing pretty vell,” he began finally. “Everyone from zhe crew is faring. Ve're zaking care of one another. Ve know you vould like zhat. Ve've all paired off and ve must zake care of our partner. It is nice, ve only need to make sure zhat zhe other is doing vell instead of zhe vhole crew. Me and Hikaru. Scotty and Uhura. Doctor McCoy and Doctor Marcus. Mr. Spock and you...” He paused a little to gather his thoughts.

“Ve... caught him, you know. Khan. He's going zhrough zrial. Vhen not vorking on repairs or zaking care of ourselves, ve are standing in zrial against him. Ve vill make sure he never does anything like this ever again, Keptin. He vill be locked up. So you have to come back to us quickly.”

He paused a little to lower his voice, a small playful smile on his face. “I'm sure Mr. Spock vill like zhat wery much. He... and Uhura no longer gets along. I zhink something happened. But don't vorry, Scotty is zaking wery good care of her. Ve are sure she vill be fine. Although... I'm not so sure of zhe same for Mr. Spock.”

Then he launched into ship gossip. Well, crew gossip really, since the Enterprise was docked for repairs. He informed his captain of all the latest couples that had formed. He talked of all the people who had become friends, who was fighting, who was secretly fucking but everyone knew... He talked until his throat was sore and he wasn't sure what he had already said and what he hadn't. He talked until he felt exhausted and he found that words have left him.

And for a few minutes, he sat in the silence.

It was terrifying, actually. When it became so suddenly silent without his words to fill the empty air, the loneliness became punctuated. He became acutely aware of Jim's heart monitor, the machines beeping to let people know that the captain was still alive. But the Captain did not stir. He did not move at all.

Chekov didn't realize that he was crying until a sob was wretched from his throat. With a surprised gasp, he quickly dabbed at his eyes, trying to show Jim a happy face. “Oh jeesh, I'm sorry, Keptin... I... I didn't mean zo...” he sniffed softly. “It's just... I... _should have been zhere_. I should have been zhe one zo go in zhe chamber. You should have.. You should have pulled zhe lever. It shouldn't have been you, Keptin. It shouldn't have... shouldn't...”

He curled into a small ball, letting the sobs shake his shoulders. “I'm sorry,” he whispered to nothingness, wishing Jim could hear him. “I'm so sorry...”

~~~~~~~

“Are you ready?” the nurse asked him gently, looking down at Jim with such concern that he was starting to doubt his decision already. 

Wasn't this supposed to be a good thing? He was getting rid of his brain tumor. Shouldn't people be showing him a little more encouragement for that? 

“You know the old saying, Nurse. I was born ready,” Jim told her with a flirty grin.

She smiled tightly. “If you would count down from 100...”

Jim began to do so and slowly he found his conscious fading from here and...  
 _  
“How's the ship?” he croaked. His mouth was dry and he couldn't form the words correctly. It sounded hideous and wrong. Like he was somewhere underwater, and his voice was coming up gargled. He vaguely wondered if Spock could really hear him through the thick glass. But he didn't have to doubt because Spock was Vulcan._

_“Out of danger,” Spock assured him. But his voice sounded far away, as if he couldn't quite believe this was happening._

_“Good...” Jim sighed. He debated on closing his eyes. Just close his eyes and breath out. Maybe he should just let everything go..._

_“You saved the crew.”_

_There was an answer on the tip of his tongue, but it wouldn't come out. An insult that wasn't much of an insult. Something cheeky. Something he would normally say. But instead, he found himself saying something different. “You used what he wanted against him... That's a nice move.”_

_“It is what you would have done.”_

_Heh. How cute. Spock was complementing him._

_“And this... This is what you would have done...”_

_Jim knew. He saw it before. When the older Spock had melded with him. The other Spock had believed that he had held back all of his memories, his emotions. But Jim saw. He wasn't blind. He saw the devotion, the death, the trials that they went through... Things that should have happened, things that would never happen._

_Not now, anyways._

_“I'm scared, Spock. Help me not be,” his voice was soft. Why was it so hard to speak? Why was it so hard to focus? His eyes searched for the familiar emotionless eyes. But he found something else. Dark eyes bore into Jim with... Oh hey. So much for being an emotionless robot. “How do you chose not to feel?”_

_“I do not know. Right now, I am failing.”_

_Jim could see that. He could see Spock shaking. See the way Spock was just barely held at the seams. It was odd. They hadn't always seen eye-to-eye, but this kind of reaction... Was that really normal? And he couldn't stop the yearning in his heart. The memories that he saw in the older Spock's mind assaulted him. Not fair. So not fair. It was things that he couldn't have. Late night chess matches with Spock. The soft words, gentle caresses, butterfly kisses when the lights were down and no one could see..._

_“I want you to know why I couldn't let you die. Why I went back for you.” He had to say everything now. He couldn't hold it back. He had to let Spock know. Let Spock know that-_

_“Because you are my friend.”_

_Jim stopped. Oh. Right... Right. Spock had Uhura, didn't he? What had he been thinking? That all of a sudden, just because he was dying, that this was okay? No. It would be better this way. Spock had Uhura. He didn't need Jim. Didn't need to be burdened with Jim's feelings._

_The Captain of the USS Enterprise took his last breath._  
  
~~~~~~~

It took Chekov an embarrassingly long time to get himself under control. But once he wasn't sniffling anymore, and the ugly tears weren't falling, he returned his focus to the Captain. 

“Once upon a zime, you zold me zo vait, Keptin,” Chekov said, his voice still raw from crying. “Zhat I'm young and zhat I should see zhe vorld before settling down vith zhe first gorgeous man I saw. But Keptin... I... I am no longer sure about zhat. I don't vant zo vait. Life is so... short. And seeing vhat ve just vent zhrough... Everyone ve've lost and every zrauma ve've vitnessed, it seems almost foolish zo vait. So I'm going zo ask him, Keptin. I'm going zo ask Hikaru out.”

He paused to smile sheepishly. “So you have zo vake up, Keptin. I'm not making my move until you are zhere zo back me up. Okay? So please...”

“Wake up.”


	6. Another Place and Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel giddy with this story. We're finally nearing my favorite part!
> 
> Warning: References made to _Secret Window_ and _Inception_. I also spoil the ending of _Secret Window_ in this chapter.

“The surgery of the famed author, James Kirk is considered to be a miracle. The doctors predict a near full recovery, although they remained tight-lipped on any potential side-effects that the author might suffer from...” 

The man let out a low growl before crumpling the magazine. He was well-built, not quite thin but not exactly blurry either. He was pale, but not in an unhealthy way. Just more like he could use a little more sun. His fingers were long and elegant, toying with his coffee cup with a contemplative look on his face. His black hair had been sleeked back, giving him an air of professionalism that was accentuated by his black polo shirt and black pants. 

He waved at the waitress for a refill on his café au lait. She just glared at him before pointing at the menu, which clearly stated 'No Refills.' The man frowned before nodding and standing up. He shrugged on his trench coat and left the shop, leaving the ruined magazine at the table along with a small tip and the coffee cup.

“Ugh, what a rude asshole,” the waitress grumbled.

“At least he's hot,” her co-worker at the cash register answered.

“I wonder who he was. I've never seen him around here before.”

“Maybe he's here for the book signing. I mean, he was reading that magazine report about Kirk.”

“True...” She didn't mention how angry the man had looked when he was reading the magazine.

*

It had nearly been a month since the successful operation to remove the brain tumor. Since then, he had been in and out of the hospital, getting regular checkups. His apartment was finally clean, any and all broken furnitures fixed or replaced (Thank god for money). In one corner of his living room was a small stack of boxes with 'Get Well' cards from loving fans, all of which were untouched. Every time Janice got new ones, she packed them neatly in boxes before bringing them over. And now they were forming a small pile of crap that would probably get thrown out in a few years.

Aside from his fans, his family had also been lovingly suffocating. If they weren't over at his place, then they were always calling him to check in on him. He had enough of his mother's sweets to gain at least five pounds in the last few weeks, and it was starting to worry him a little. His sisters were over as often as they could after school, and even his father made time to talk to him. When his family wasn't smothering him, it was Gary and Janice. Hell, it was the whole damned neighborhood!

The puppy that Alisha had gotten him was probably the only one who didn't treat him like a fragile china. It was always nice and sweet, and all Jim really needed after a long day of being smothered was to just find his puppy and play with it. Currently, it was curled up in its bed, sleeping soundly. Adorable. Jim still didn't have a name for it. He knew Alisha was calling it 'Khan' behind his back, but Jim disagreed on the choice of the name. If anything, the puppy should be called Spock. It was loyal enough...

Three sharp knocks on the door snapped Jim out of his thoughts. Huh. Odd. Who was visiting him? Janice wasn't due for a meeting with him until 5 PM, and it was only 2. Was someone else here to suffocate him? Were they going to use that lame excuse of 'I was in the neighborhood' (No shit, you live there!) or 'I baked something' (No more baked goods, please!) or even 'Just checking to see if you're still sane.' At least the last one was honest.

“Yes, you were in the neighborhood. No, I'm not hungry. And no, I am not crazy,” he said exasperatedly as he opened the door. 

But instead of someone he knew, a complete stranger stood at the door with a polite grin that made Jim tense up. The man had neat black hair jelled back and high cheek bones that looked dangerous to even casually glance at. He wore a long black trench coat as if he was some kind of a badass from a movie or something, and Jim had no idea how or why, but he got an inkling of a feeling that he might know this man. And know in a not so good way, especially the way his shoulders automatically pulled back and he all but growled at the sight of the other man.

“Erm... who are you?” Jim asked.

“I'm hurt. You don't remember me?” the man countered with his own question. His voice was a low baritone, amusement clear in his voice. Jim didn't like it at all.

“I'm going to guess that you're not here to deliver pizza.”

The grin on the man's face lessened to the point that it was just a humorless stretch of the lips. “How very cold of you. To forget me after stealing my story.”

“Your...? I'm sorry, what?”

“Are you deaf as well as forgetful? How pitiful it must be to be you. I said that you have stolen my story.”

Okay. Hold up. What?

“Look buddy, I don't know who you are. I didn't steal your story. The _Moon Walker_ is completely my own. And if you're here looking to get some quick cash, you picked the wrong author to deal with.” Jim puffed up his chest to make himself look bigger. 

But the man just snorted and pushed his way inside the apartment.

“Hey! What the hell, man?” Jim demanded, staring at the man's retreating back.

The man ignored him and settled himself on the couch, looking way too comfortable. He then glanced over at Jim with a raised brow. “Aren't you going to offer me a drink?”

Enough was enough. “Look, you barged into my home, accused me of stealing your story, and now you're telling me to get you a drink? What the-?! What kind of a nut job do you take me for?”

“Coffee,” the man stated as if Jim didn't just explode. “Add milk, if you have it.”

Jim threw his arms up in the air with a loud frustrated shout. He slammed the front door shut and stomped into the kitchen. A few minutes later, he was sitting across from the trench coat-wearing man, two cups of coffee set in between them. The other man didn't spare Jim any glances. Instead, he just took the coffee and sipped it elegantly.

Another uncomfortable (well at least for Jim, anyways) minute passed in silence. Jim let out a heavy sigh, dropping his shoulders.

“Okay, fine. You have your coffee. Now explain to me what the fuck is going on here.”

The man took another sip of the coffee. “You're not very good at brewing coffee,” the man said instead. “It tastes like shit.”

“Well, excuse me! It's not like I have to brew coffee when we have replicat-” Jim broke off suddenly, realizing only too late what he was about to say. He glanced at the other man, waiting for the crazy remark he would doubtlessly get if he was with someone else.

There was a shark-like grin on the man's face. “So you do remember.”

“It's just leftovers from the surgery,” Jim put in quickly. A little too quick. He winced. But he continued. “It means nothing. I'm not crazy enough to be confused by whether _Moon Walker_ is my own work or not.”

“It is not,” the man states calmly. “It is my story that you have taken without my expressive permission. I believe this is considered plagiarism?”

“Let me guess. You're now going to take out your anger on me by killing my dog, burning my parent's house, and killing any and all muscle help that I hire. After all of which, it's going to turn out that this is all in my head and I'm going to end up killing Ruth and Gary. I've already seen this movie. So can we just skip over the part where I go crazy? Because I've already done that and it's not really fun.”

The man looked much too amused for Jim's tastes. “Unfortunately, I believe this situation closely resembles that of _Inception_ more so than _Secret Window_. Well, I suppose it's more fortunate for you.”

Jim was starting to get really tired of being puzzled and confused. But he decided to play along. Maybe he wasn't the crazy one this time. Maybe it was this man. “How so?”

There was another silence as the man took a long sip of the coffee. “What do you think?”

“I think you're crazy. _Moon Walker_ is my story. I wrote it from my own brain-”

“Yes. The words are yours. However, the characters and the story does not belong to you. And it should not belong to you. That is not your burden to bear.”

“And what the hell does that even mean?”

The man smiled. Actually smiled this time. No traces of malice or anything. Just a calm smile. Then he switched the topic again, leaving Jim's head spinning in circles and confused. “The ending of your story is wrong.”

“What?” Jim looked at the man, uncomprehending. He highly disliked being led around by his nose by this guy he had never met before.

“In your series, you ended with Khan and his group finding a planet to conquer. A savage planet for him and his people to rule over. But that is not the true ending that you had originally written.”

Jim felt a shiver go down his spine. What the hell? Was this guy trying to scare him now? “So what? Many authors go through revisions.”

“Originally, you had Khan and his group go to sleep. Khan wakes up 300 years into the future, all those he considered family taken hostage by a government agent of that time. You ended the story with Khan swearing revenge.” The man took another sip of his coffee.

“How did you know that?” There was ice running through Jim's veins now. There was no way that anyone could know that. No way. Not even Janice saw that version of the story. The only one who knew was Rose and Alisha, who listened to the ending, made faces and made him change it. There was no way those two told a random guy on the street how the story was supposed to end. Which left...

Understanding flashed on his face as the man across from him smirked that all-knowing smirk. “Now do you remember me?” he asked, his low baritone voice drawing out each syllable before they snapped shut in Jim's face.

“John Harrison,” Jim breathed, staring in disbelief. “You're _Khan_.”

“Took you long enough, _Captain_.”


	7. Flying Deadly High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that took me a long time. Sorry! Things just got a lot more hectic in real life than I expected. On the plus side, we're very much near Jim waking up. I think he'll come to in the next chapter! Whoot!
> 
> So there's quite a bit of analysis in this chapter. And it's evolved from what I originally planned in the beginning. So if it sounds different from the way I explained it earlier, that's mostly the reason why.

“This is a dream. I'm dreaming. C'mon, Jimmy, you have to wake up. Because this is fucking ridiculous!”

“Well, that's exactly it, actually,” Khan said, calmly returning to sipping his coffee. “Glad you understood so quickly. If we could hurry this along?”

“Hurry what along...?”

Khan sighed heavily, putting down the now empty coffee cup. He shot Jim a withering look, making the author feel stupid. “Waking up. Did I not mention that this was similar to _Inception_? All you have to do is wake up. You've been sleeping enough now. A little longer and you will not be able to wake up again.”

“What...? No. What are you on? Wake up? I am awake.”

“Are you really?” Khan was giving him that disdainful look that showed how much superior he was over Jim. It was really grating Jim's fragile nerves. Jesus, if he wasn't already insane, then Khan was sure to drive him there.

“Obviously,” Jim said, waving his hands around. 

“Wrong,” Khan declared before he reached over and took Jim's cold coffee. He sipped it elegantly and then grimaced. “Shitty coffee.”

“Focus here, Khan.”

Khan put down the cup and looked Jim in the eye. “What exactly are you looking from me? You know exactly what I'm going to say. Do not make me repeat myself.”

“I'm looking... I don't know. Admit that you're lying? Go back to wherever you came from? Let me just go back to the life I used to have.”

“That's exactly what I'm doing.” 

The two looked at each other for a second before a knock on the door interrupted them. Jim stood up to answer, but Khan just grabbed him, forbidding him from moving.

“Once again you chose to run,” Khan said. “Whenever your mind tries to remind you of who you are, you reject it immediately and label it as 'stress' or 'brain tumor' or 'inspirations.' You refuse to accept that reality, preferring the sugar and cotton dream world that you've created here. But you are not going to run away this time. You are going to listen to me and you are going to wake up. This distraction will not stop me.”

The knocking on the door got desperate. Louder and frantic. Jim tugged at his hand, but Khan's hold held firm. “Let go,” the author growled. “I need to answer-”

“No. You don't.” Khan's hold did not tighten or change. He just held on and Jim witnessed the superior strength that he had written about firsthand. 

The knocking became tenser and then Gary's concerned voice of “Jim?” came from the other side.

But before Jim could open his mouth and answer him, Khan pulled him back to the couch. He held up a finger to his mouth, and the blonde couldn't help but to get caught up by the ploy. He sat quietly, watching Khan uncertainly. After few more knocks, the sound dissolved into silence.

“What...?”

“You didn't need him to get you out,” Khan stated calmly. “So he left.”

Realization flashed in Jim's eyes and Khan pushed on, knowing he had the author where he want him.

“Gary Mitchell... Of everyone, why did you chose him?”

“What do you mean?”

“As your best friend figure. This Mitchell has characteristics of your doctor. Grumpy but loyal. Together with a woman who doesn't deserve him. Despite all his complaints, he will stand by your side. He will always take care of you first because he is sick and tired of his own life. He is your doctor and yet instead of using him, you used Gary Mitchell, whom you've had as a sparring partner once or twice. You barely knew the cadet before he was killed by Nero in the ambush.”

Jim could see it in his mind's eyes. Bones bent over at the bar, his whole body shaking with rage and grief as he downed shot after shot, all because Jocelyn called just a few hours before. Bones complaining about dying in space but following behind Jim like a faithful friend, always there, always one step behind. Bones looking at him worriedly as he tried to figure out which one of Jim's many allergies kicked in this time. If Khan was speaking the truth, then wouldn't the reason why he chose Gary Mitchell to be his surrogate McCoy because if Leonard was by his side, he would never want to wake up?

“Your choice in Janice Rand is most unusual, although quite clever,” Khan continued. “You've met her only in passing once or twice. And yet you've chosen her to stand in for your Vulcan. In this world, she's always been by your side, always ready to reign you in, no matter what. She'll follow you through hell and back, and she will always be the one that you run to when you have a problem. You've infused everything into her that your relationship with Spock pertains. Even including his unattainability. You cannot be with him, and therefore, you've included in her, human aspects to his personalities. Bits and pieces of people that you could never imagine being with.”

Jim remembered that faithful day, long ago, when he sat across Janice and accidentally called her Bones. Was that why? Because he had subconsciously put McCoy's personality in Janice so that he would make it doubly obvious why he couldn't be with Spock? Because Spock was taken. Because Spock saw him as nothing more than friends. So he made sure to look at Janice as nothing more than a friend. Because just as Spock was unattainable, so was Janice. 

“Now Ruth... Well, I can't quite blame you for choosing her. After all, you need a scapegoat. Someone to hate for sweet Gaila's death. Why not Ruth? It was her fault. If she hadn't reported in sick that day, Gaila would have been assigned to the Enterprise with the rest of the survivors. She would have lived.”

Jim remembered the funeral. Sitting with the rest of the remaining classmates, all mourning over the death of their friends and classmates. He could hear Gaila's soft words from long ago, almost scared, almost gushing _I think I'm in love with you_. And the sobbing girl, who couldn't stop apologizing at the funeral, _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry._ He learned much later that her name was Ruth (no last name. No one would give him a last name, in fear that he would track her down to kill her. Idiots, all of them, he would have tortured her first. Made her go through what the rest of the survivors went through). And that she had faked a sickness to get out of going out to Vulcan. Gaila replaced her on the Farragut.

“You've done some work with your family. Your beloved mentor, Christopher Pike, was the model you used to create George Kirk. Pike and all the wonderful hero stories you've heard about your father when you were younger. You've combined all of them to create a new father who was there for you. Who cared for you and loved you. As for your mother, you've created her using all the childish wants and needs of a 5 year old. A mother who is always ready to listen to your troubles. Someone who is always cooking, baking, always ready with a band aid and ready to kiss you good night. The perfect mother that you've always wished you had when you were younger and Frank's words were harsher than usual.”

Jim closed his eyes, trying to block out Khan's words. But they battered against the walls he was building, breaking down his dams with such ease that it scared him. He didn't want to be such an open book. He didn't want Khan or anyone, for that matter, to know this much about him. He didn't want to open his eyes to the world that he knew was waiting for him, if he would just _wake up_.

“Your two little sisters were based on the children you've found on Tarus IV. The children you couldn't save. Alisha died right away, trying to steal a carrot from an older man. Just a single carrot. My god, you humans are so... _savage_. Rose, however, suffered. She was sickly and no one would take care of her. You tried your best. But medicine was hard to come by and food even scarcer. She died slowly and painfully, tired and wary eyes looking at you, asking if you could end it for her.”

“Stop,” Jim whispered, his voice hoarse. He couldn't focus; the world seemed like it was swimming. All he wanted, all of a sudden, was to curl up into a small ball again. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want this dragged out. He didn't want to see it. He wanted all of it to stop.

“Oh, but my dear Captain, I'm not quite done,” Khan informed him. There was a malicious smirk on his face, looking at Jim as if he was some kind of an experiment. Some kind of a specimen to dissect. 

A growl was the only warning they had before the small pup flung itself at Khan, fangs bared. But Khan wasn't just a superhuman in name. He simply pushed the puppy away, watching with uninterested eyes as the puppy fell harshly against the ground with a whine. The puppy did not get up and Jim found bile rising from his stomach. This was wrong. This had to be stopped. But what was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to stop Khan?

“Please,” Jim begged, fists clenching tightly as he swallowed his pride. “Please stop.”

There was a small pause of silence before the intense eyes of Khan focused on Jim. “Stop? And what exactly do you think Marcus would do if I laid on the ground with my stomach bared and begged him to stop hurting my family? What do you think would have happened if I had given up without a single fight? How many do you think would have died if I hadn't become a tyrant?”

“I'm not you! Stop comparing yourself to me. You're nothing like me and I'm never going to be like you!”

“Did I hit a nerve?” Khan's voice was silky smooth, the anger from a second ago already replaced by amusement. “Feels bad, doesn't it? When you're dissected like a bug in front of an audience. Like you're nothing but a character in some crazy man's mind. I'm just returning the favor, _Captain_.”

“Stop that,” Jim spat. “Stop calling me captain. I'm James Kirk. I'm a famous author, I'm-”

“Stuck in a dream. Your wakeup call was long overdue. Don't you agree?”

Then Khan was moving, up and out of his couch and on top of Jim within seconds. He held Jim's legs down with his own and wrapped one hand around Jim's throat. The other hand secured Jim's arms, forbidding any movement. But despite that, Jim struggled. He fought, trying to get free. But there was nothing that he could do and he could hear Khan's soft purring chuckle in his ear, could feel Khan's hot breath against him. And damn it, this was not how he saw his life end. This wasn't it!

“Let... go,” he hissed, glaring at Khan with all his might. “Let me... go.”

“If I do, you're just going to go back to this dream,” Khan pointed out, his voice low and soft against Jim's ears. “You're going to ignore that this happened and go back to dreaming. You'll pass this event off as another of your psychotic episodes. But I can't let you do that.”

“Why not?” Jim growled. “Why does... any of this matter... to you?”

“What's it to me?” Khan asked, looking thoughtful at this. “Well, I suppose you do have a point. Other than the fact that you wanted someone else to blame for your problems, I'm not really needed in this.”

And in a blink of an eye, it was no longer Khan who was looming over Jim. It was another him. The Other Jim looked down, grinning the way Khan did, the same way that brought shivers down Jim's spine. 

“This makes more sense, don't you think?” The Other Jim asked, the grin morphing into a hateful scowl. “Do you know what I am, Jimmy? I am your desire to live. I was starting to get tired of watching us die while you play happy family in this dream. But I'm not going to die, do you understand? Every second we waste with this meaningless conversation is another second closer to never waking up. So even if it means I have to get rid of you, I'm going to live.”

Jim felt his body convulse, saw the spots overtake his vision. He tried for another weak struggle, but by then he was completely exhausted. _Fuck._ What kind of end was this? To have gotten so far, to have saved the Enterprise, saved Spock, written a best-selling novel, and only to be choked to death by his own image? He would have laughed if he wasn't so breathless. He would have cursed and laughed and cried. Because damn it. It wasn't fair. He didn't want to die like this. He wanted... He wanted...

_Spock! Help me!_

~~~~~~~

Leonard burst through the rooms when he was informed about Jim's condition. He ran in, saw that Spock was already there, body rigid as he stood against the wall. Chekov was there as well, with Sulu holding him tightly as the young Russian shook, pale and fearful. And he knew his own face reflected the same fear. He didn't know why they were there (Well, he knew why the Hobgoblin was, but why were Sulu and Chekov here?), but now wasn't the time to ask questions. He had more important things to worry about.

He ran to Jim's side, eyes barely glancing at the readings because damn it, this was the first sign of _life_ that Jim displayed in two weeks! It meant either of two things. One, Jim was going to be fine. Or two, Jim was giving up.

And like hell Leonard McCoy was going to let Jim die after all he'd done to keep his stupid Captain alive.


	8. I'll Sell My Soul to Dream You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this came out so late. My computer was broken for the better part of the week and a good portion of this story had been lost. >-> Nevertheless, please enjoy this!
> 
> It's also a little longer than usual because I won't be able to update this weekend. Going to California (yay!) but I have no idea what kind of connection, if any, I will have (boo).

If there was one thing that Leonard never got used to, it was the sound of the loud machinery as he tried to stabilize a patient. He had a hard time tuning it out, which, in some cases was good, because it made sure that he was always aware of the patient’s status. But sometimes, much like now, it drove him absolutely crazy because damn it, he got that his best friend was dying, but none of the machines were telling him what to do. How was he supposed to make sure that Jim was okay when, by all means, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him?

He tugged his hair and the rest of the medical staff looked around in panic and bafflement. 

“Doctor, what’s wrong with him?” someone asked in the background. “What should we do?”

 _I don’t goddamn know!_ Leonard wanted to scream. But before any word can leave his mouth, someone else spoke up.

“Doctor McCoy, perhaps I can offer assistance.”

“Don’t tell me your Vulcan pedigree gives you medical knowledge as well?” Leonard grumbled. But glancing down at his friend’s increasing purple face and listening to the insistent beeping of the machine, he knew that he had no other choice. He took a deep breath, dropping his face into his hands for a split second before he turned to look at Spock.

“Alright. Fine. What do you suggest?”

“I suggest the Vulcan mind meld. It’s something-” 

“I know what it is,” Leonard snapped. "It’s the Mind-Whammer. Jim talked about it.” The he paused and before Spock could open his mouth and correct him, said, “Are you suggesting that you use that to help Jim?”

There wasn’t a hesitation. Spock nodded firmly. “Affirmative. I will use the mind meld to figure out what is wrong with the Captain.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? You could die, Spock.”

“We’ve come too far to lose the Captain now,” was the reply. Damned Hobgoblin probably already calculated all the dangers anyways.

Leonard took a deep breath. Then he nodded. “Alright.”

With that permission, Spock climbed up into bed next to Jim before spreading his hands out over Jim’s face in the gentlest manner, almost like he was... Leonard quickly stopped that train of thought. It wouldn’t do him an ounce of good now anyways.

“My mind to your mind…” Spock whispered. 

And not for the first time since Jim’s death, the doctor wondered if he had made the right choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pure, unadulterated darkness. There were no other words to describe it. Spock found himself tensing. Why was his Captain’s mind built like this? Normally, people’s mind was built like a maze, a hallway, or filing cabinet. Each nock, doorway, or file referred to a specific memory for the purpose of organization. There were always some sort of variation to those, but those were the main ones that Spock had seen. But to see nothing? 

An uneasy feeling gnawed at the pit of his stomach. Did this have to do with Khan’s blood…? Was that why Kirk had been choking on nothing? Was Spock too late to actually help…? But this wasn’t how Admiral Pike’s brain felt when he had passed away. Perhaps this was just another reason that showed Kirk was different? 

“This sure is a surprise,” drawled a voice of a man that shouldn’t be here.

Impossible. Then Spock stopped because it obviously wasn’t impossible. Perhaps highly improbable but most definitely not impossible. It still begged a question, however, of _What the hell was Khan Noonien Singh doing in Jim Kirk’s mind?_ Spock voiced the question out loud, carefully watching the terrorist for any sign of threat.

“Why? Are you really that surprised to see me? Surely you’ve made the objective observations? If you have looked through the evidence as I have, you would have arrived on the same conclusion as I: your Captain and I are rather similar.”

“Your similarities have no bearings on your appearance here. This is the Captain’s mind. You should not be here.”

“And yet as my blood runs in his veins, it makes more sense for me to be here than for you.” Khan tilted his head to the side, amusement dancing in his eyes as he smirked. ”So the better question, Commander, is why are _you_ here?”

"To wake the Captain," Spock replied without hesitation. "If you are attempting to stop me-"

"Oh, don't be petty, Commander. After all I've done to help, why would I sabotage the Captain now?" Then he paused, looking at Spock as if he was calculating something. "Well, I suppose it won't mean much. He's doing quite well in sabotaging himself, you know. Your Captain is... a strange creature, to say the least."

"I do not expect you to appreciate the Captain for what he is," Spock found himself saying. Then he stopped. What was he saying? Why was he saying it?

"How very touching of you," Khan said, laughing. But when he turned back to face Spock, it was no longer Khan who stood there. It was Jim, with too wide a smile and too bright a laugh. "But Spock, not everything is as it appears."

Spock opened his mouth to retort, but never got the chance. Because the Khan-Kirk mirage disappeared into the vast blankness, almost as if he was eaten by it. And after a beat of silence, the darkness receded, leaving behind a sunny street that Spock couldn’t help but to glance around in mild shock. Once again, he couldn’t help but be struck by how differently his Captain was to the rest of the world. Just what kind of games was his Captain playing? Didn't he know that the time was of essence? 

Despite the frustration, he couldn't help but be fascinated by the sight. This was the streets of San Francisco. However, it wasn’t the streets that he walked every day when he was still at the Academy. It was the streets that he had seen once or twice in the prototype holodesk with Uhura when they were helping out with the testing.

The San Francisco streets of the 21st century. Historically accurate, if the holodesk creation was anything to go by. Why Jim had such extensive knowledge of the 21st century streets was something Spock wasn't too sure he wanted to know. He sincerely hoped that it had nothing to do with Khan's blood and his presence in Jim's mind...

Well, he wasn’t going to find anything out by just standing around. He walked up to a random person and asked point blank, “Do you know where I can find James Kirk?”

The person blinked, stunned, before stating, “What? You mean the author? I don’t know, man. His agent, maybe?”

Author? His Captain always did have a tendency to embellish his reports… Spock made a mental note to pick up a novel to read before he left. He was rather curious as to what kind of stories his Captain would write. Or perhaps it would just be like reading Kirk’s reports: brash but elegant with a stroke of engaging genius.

“But uh… I guess you’re one of those crazy fans, huh?” the person continued. “You’re dressed up and everything.”

… Fascinating. Perhaps he should get himself a disguise first…

*

People did not stare at him. It was just a fragment of his mind, a small voice of insecurity that claimed that there was no way 21st century humans could accept a Vulcan just wandering the clothing shop. Then he had to chide himself for being so illogical, because these were not 21st century humans. These were 21st century humans that Jim projected would exist. That was why no one thought twice about his ears. Or the way he spoke. Or anything.

It meant quite a lot, since these people were, in a sense, projections of Kirk’s mind. It meant that the Captain was comfortable enough with Spock’s presence that he didn’t look twice (or if ever) at the pointy ears or the green-tinted skin. Spock wasn’t sure why that made his stomach flip, but he resolved to store it for examination later. 

Pushing the thoughts aside, he bought a black beanie and a jacket. While shopping, he found two interesting things: the first book of _Moon Walker_ series that Jim wrote and a dated magazine with wide headlines about Jim being in the mental ward. With a frown, he got them both as well. He didn’t question whether or not the money used in Jim’s mind was actual money he had in his pocket in reality.

*

Khan Noonien Singh. His Captain wrote a series on the terrorist who killed Chris Pike. Granted, it was a very well written, but Spock wasn’t sure how to logically analyze this at all. Where was he supposed to start? He skimmed through the first book in the series on the way to the agent’s office. Even with the quick read, he noticed how much details were put in. Details that Jim Kirk should not know. Did he just make those up as part of writing a story? Or were there a much more significant meaning to them?

It worried Spock just how much effect the blood had on his Captain. First Khan that was waiting for him when he first entered Kirk’s mind. And now he found that his Captain wrote a series on the superhuman? Spock did not like this at all (and no, this had nothing to do with the fact that there was not a single Vulcans mentioned in the book).

The agency did not allow Spock to have Jim’s address, much to the Vulcan’s displeasure. They promised that they could schedule something _”And how does next week sound?”_ and Spock found himself politely refusing it. They wouldn’t even allow him to talk to Jim’s personal agent, which left just one thing.

He had to hack their files. 

Wouldn’t his Captain find that hilarious? 

*

With plans for the theft in his mind, he made his way through the streets, brown bag filled with the equipments he was going to need in his arms. Normally, he would have continued to walk, but something special caught his attention. He caught the whispers first. A soft whisper of “Hey, is that…?” And it was more than enough for him to turn around, the bag already falling from his hands, because _there he was._

“Captain!”

Bright blue eyes met his, relief and confusion flashing before being replaced with something Spock was infinitely more used to seeing in those eyes: anger. It was intensely familiar but there was something off about it. No doubt, it was the Captain in front of Spock. Then why did he feel so uneasy? The apple Kirk was holding pulled away from his mouth as he formed the words out loud for the Vulcan (and everyone else nearby) to hear. 

“Spock? What are you doing here?” His voice was light and casual, but the anger in his eyes did not diminish. 

“To inform you, sir. You must wake up.” 

A dark look flashed on his captain’s face before he let out a dry laugh. Again, the sound was familiar, but something was off. Like Kirk was laughing in a key that was slightly flatter than normal. “What exactly do you think I’ve been doing all this time?” His voice dripped with venom, oozed with darkness that Spock had never heard so openly from his Captain before. 

Spock found himself both relaxing and tensing at the admittance. So his Captain knew that this was a dream and was working on waking. But it also worried him. Kirk couldn’t wake up? Was that why he felt so off? Was it an influence of Khan’s blood? 

“How do you normally wake up?” Spock tried. “Perhaps if we tried-“

Kirk let out a bark of a laughter that sounded much too bitter. Spock forced down the wince. “Oh, of course, you don’t get it! You don’t know what I am, do you?”

“You are the Captain.”

“No. I’m your Captain’s will to live.” The tips of Kirk’s lips curved into a scowl. “You can’t even tell who your Captain is. And you dare call yourself his First Officer?” Then there was a pause as light flashed in those blue eyes and understanding settled there. “Ah,” he said, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth. “So that’s what it is…”

Spock tilted his head. “I do not understand. If you will-”

“If I were you, I’d get out of here,” Kirk’s will to live declared, the scowl already gone. Instead, there was the Captain’s infamous grin on those lips, stretched in a manner that was just _wrong_. Then he was running, leaving Spock behind.

But a Vulcan was physically better than a human, Jim’s mind or not. Spock easily followed.

*

“Oh, you little asshole, you have some nerve leaving me here!” Jim screamed when he heard the door open. The small puppy was curled up by his feet, torn between which masters to obey. Jim sort of wished that it would listen to him and just _chewed_ on the damned ropes that were tying him down to the wooden chair his mother helped pick out for the dining room.

Just as he expected, his ‘Will-to-Live’ walked in, a smirk on his face as he strutted in the apartment that Jim had worked hard to buy. “I’m not the asshole who’s about to get us killed, now am I?”

“You choked me until I lost consciousness,” Jim snarled. “Then you tied me to this friggin’ chair for who knows how long. I think that’s pretty damned close to death!”

“Don’t be melodramatic,” his other self scolded in an almost flippant manner. “I’m not going to kill you. Your will to live, remember?”

“Why are you back? Came up with yet another way to try to wake me up? After all, almost drowning me in water didn't do it last time.” 

His other self grinned, looking more like Khan than what was strictly necessary. “I found something rather interesting, actually. Tell me, what is your reason for not wanting to wake up? What is your reason for choosing to die rather than return to real life?”

“Whua…? A reason? I don’t think I have one-”

“On the contrary, you do. Why else would you have been resisting so much? Admit it, Jimmy. You’d rather run away from reality because you know you can’t have Spock.”

Jim’s breath got caught in his chest. His eyes widened, staring at his other self. “What are you talking about?” No. That couldn’t be right. Sure he couldn’t have Spock, but none of this was because of-

“So I brought him with me. He’s waiting outside. He came all the way here from reality to make sure that you'll wake up.” His other self continued to grin, eyes sparkling with amusement. 

But Jim didn’t want to see a copy of Spock. He didn’t want to know what his brain would twist the Vulcan to say, to do. He didn’t want false hope. For Spock to tell him something nice and fluffy in here, only for Jim’s hopes to be completely crushed at the sight of Spock with Uhura in reality. But he also didn’t want to hear the truth. Of Spock quirking up his eyebrow as always and stating, “You are an illogical choice as a mate.”

“Captain?”

Jim closed his eyes. _No_. “Stop it. I don’t want to. I’ll wake up, just don’t!”

“Are you aware how to wake up?”

“ _No._ Damn it. I don’t know. He keeps telling me to wake up, but I don’t know how! I just… Just don’t do this. Please, Spock. Don’t.”

“I do not know what you believe I am about to do, but I assure you, I am here to assist you in your awakening. Captain, focus on my voice. I will attempt to lead us out of your mind and back to your body.”

Jim took in a shuddering breath before opening his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Just don’t do it, alright? I’ll follow you. I’ll wake up. Just don’t.”

Spock knelt before him, looking up at him with dark eyes that undoubtedly repressed anger or something. Jim noticed that his other self was gone. Huh. Perhaps he had made the right choice. Because his homicidal (or perhaps suicidal was the more correct term since he just really wanted to kill Jim?) self was gone. Spock slowly untied the ropes, hands moving swiftly and certainly. After finishing, he stood, waiting for Jim. As if giving him a choice. As if he had a choice to start with.

“Fuck it all,” Jim decided. It wasn’t like anything here was real anyways. It would be better if he forgot about them. 

So he walked towards Spock, forcing himself to remember the inspirations from before. Running all of them through his mind as he followed Spock. As he allowed himself to wake up. He heard the voices of his past. All of them swarming him as each tried to remind him of the life he had almost abandoned. After all, that was what was real. Reality was waiting for him. 

Then why was the last thing that he saw the puppy that his younger sister had gotten for him, looking at him as if waiting for him?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim’s eyes snapped open as his lungs took in air in grateful gasps. Did it work? Where was Spock? Where was he? This wasn’t medbay. Where was the Enterprise? Why wasn't he on it? This place didn’t even smell like the sterile hospitals of- No, no. That was all in his mind. That wasn’t real. He couldn’t focus on that. He had to figure out if he was back. If he really was awake.

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic.”

 _Bones._

“You were barely dead.”

Jim couldn’t stop the small smile from forming. _Liar._ So it worked. He was alive and he was awake. Just like his ‘Will-to-Live’ and Spock had wanted. 

Then why did he feel like the storm wasn’t over yet?


	9. Without a Warning Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No matter where Jim is, he always seem to be going crazy in this story. >->
> 
> There's a part of this chapter that was inspired by [this story](http://archiveofourown.org/works/882575). Okay, by that, I really mean that that story was inspired by this chapter. It's not really all that important to read it, but I thought I should mention it anyhow.

“Bones, I’m okay.”

Leonard McCoy shot him a withering look, letting Jim know that as long as he was the doctor, Jim had no say in this, what so ever. Instead, he just grabbed Jim’s arm none-too-gently and bent it this way and that, pushing it as close to Jim’s limits as possible. It had been like this for the past two hours since Jim first woke up. Leonard insisted that there was something wrong with Jim (actually, he stated that Spock might have messed with his mind, so he had to make sure there was nothing wrong), and therefore Jim had to submit to full and extensive medical examination.

Sure, Jim understood that Leonard was uncertain and that he was scared. But did the doctor really want to spend the next however long hours doing medical procedures to his buddy who just came back from the dead? 

… Who was he kidding? Of course Bones would. He was a thorough doctor, after all.

“Spock, save me!” 

Okay, it was desperate. But he was starting to get antsy and he really wanted to get out. But Spock just gave him a passive look and told him to that Doctor McCoy was correct and that Jim should just listen, that traitor.

“Gary would’ve helped me out,” Jim found himself grumbling. Then he paused at what he said. Gary? Oh, no, no. Gary Mitchell did not exist. Well, he did. Just not anymore because Nero killed him. He did not know Gary Mitchell, and he was not friends with Gary Mitchell. 

“Gary…? Who’s that?” Leonard asked, his voice sharp as he looked at Jim with worry and fear.

“Nobody,” Jim answered quickly. A bit too quick, he knew. Judging from the way Leonard’s brows furrowed and Spock’s lips thinned. But neither pushed for an answer, and Jim didn’t offer any.

“Jim, I don’t know what you dreamt about. But I need you to know that those weren’t real. This is real. And if you ever get confused, you have to let me know so that I can help you. Do you understand?” Leonard asked, looking straight into Jim’s eyes.

“I’m not a child.”

But he got the feeling that none of the other occupants of the room believed him. Then again, did he believe himself?

*

“Keptin! Keptin!” Chekov cheered when he led the rest of the group into the room. “Ve brought a party!”

Jim couldn’t help but to laugh a little at his brightness. Then again, after hours and hours of testing, anything seemed like a blessing. “You did, indeed! Please tell me you brought booze!”

“Sorry, Cap’n!” Scotty said, shrugging a little as he walked in. “The doctors were insistent.”

“Not that any of us would bring any alcohol into a hospital,” Sulu added quickly as he walked in with a cake. Behind him were a grinning Scotty, a nervously smiling Uhura, an amused McCoy, and Spock. Each carried plates and silverware as well as napkin (except for Spock, who probably would give that tight expression before stating, ‘Vulcans do not party’ or 'Vulcans cannot eat cake').

“Is that chocolate cake? I’m allowed to eat chocolate cake?” Jim clicked the button on the side of the bed, using it to sit up.

Chekov happily sat down next to him while the others pulled chairs over. “Zhe Doctor said yes,” he explained, nodding happily.

Jim shot Leonard a puppy dog look. “Yes, you can have a slice. But just that, Jim. No more. Don’t want to make you too fat before you begin your physical therapy.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

And although the room burst into laughter, Jim found himself pausing. Because weren’t they missing…?

“Where’s my family?” the words left his mouth before he could stop himself. “Or Janice?”

“Your…?” Scotty began, looking confused. “I didn’t realize you had one, laddie. You never speak of them.”

“Don’t be silly, Scotty! Why wouldn’t I speak of them? They’re my-” Jim stopped. “Oh…” That was wrong. His father was dead and he didn’t have any sisters. His only brother was out in the stars and his mother was in an insane asylum, if she wasn’t dead already… (He hadn’t checked in with her in too long. He really didn’t know how she was or if his brother was still alive).

“And who’s this Janice?”Uhura asked, an elegant eyebrow rising up to her hairlines.

Jim felt for a second the wind getting caught in his lungs, because come on! Who didn’t know who Janice was? She was always by Jim’s side and she was always following his footsteps, making sure that he wasn’t going to mess up. She was his agent, his lifeline. She was… She was… She was a nobody that he didn’t know. She was just a figment of his imagination. He never had a friend who was always there for him from the beginning. He never had a childhood friend. Janice Rand was a creation of his mind.

“Nobody,” he found himself whispering, looking down at his hands. “Nobody.”

The rest of the crew glanced at one another uneasily, but no one said anything.

*

Until he completed the physical training, they were only allowing him to walk using a cane (it was either that or being wheeled around in a wheelchair, and after the first three hours of being confined in one, he decided the cane was much better). He was slow as hell, but he figured it was better than being stuck inside the bed with Bones prodding over him all the time (Nothing against the doctor, really. But Jim was starting to get sick and tired of the haunted look on Leonard's face). At least this way, Bones could have some time to rest as well.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Jim grumbled as he hobbled towards the cafeteria for dinner.

“As you are not an infant, it would be unfitting to use such word to describe my treatment of you,” Spock stated calmly. “I believe the term 'watcher' or 'observer' would be far better to describe me.”

“Or a tattletale. You’re going to report back to Bones if I don’t eat right or whatever.”

“That is one assumption,” Spock agreed.

Jim shook his head, chuckling lightly. “God, and I thought Janice was naggy….” 

“Who is this Janice that you keep on mentioning?”

Jim’s face fell but he didn’t say anything more.

*

“Captain, you cannot eat that,” Spock pointed out, taking the pumpkin pie off of Jim’s tray and putting it back on the buffet table. “The doctor was very clear on not letting you have any more sugar.”

“And this isn’t babysitting how?” Jim rolled his eyes. “Look, it’s fine. I get it. Bones is scary when he gets mad. But he’s really not going to hurt you for letting me eat a slice of pumpkin pie.” With that, Jim picked up the pie again, putting it back on his tray. He grinned at Spock, challenging the Vulcan to disagree.

“Nevertheless, the order I have been given was clear. You are not to have any more sugar.” With that, Spock picked up the pie and placed it back on the table. There was a bright sparkle in his eyes that let Jim know that the Vulcan was amused. An echo of Jim’s own grin on his face. If Jim didn't know any better, he would say that they were flirting with one another (except Jim did know better).

“You have got to be kidding me,” Jim groaned, shaking his head. But it was all in good jest. Because even if he wanted to be serious about the whole thing, he couldn’t stop the grin on his face from spreading wide or prevent the gentlest of chuckles in his chest. They were arguing about pie. How domestic was that? “Spock, it’s just a slice of pie! I’m not going to die!”

He realized the wrong choice of words only after Spock’s face completely shut down from any form of amusement that was there before. 

“We do not know that,” Spock said softly, looking at Jim with that same expression from before in Jim’s dream that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t quite anger (Jim had seen that on Spock’s face before), and it wasn’t grief either. It was soft yet intense. Almost intimate. “We have no idea how Khan’s blood affected you. It would be… for the best if we did not take any chances.”

“You make me sound like some kind of an experiment,” Jim said, snorting a little. He reached for the pie again, but Spock merely slapped his hand down. 

“Captain,” Spock warned.

Jim sighed. “Alright, alright. I get it. You win.”

*

“So how come Uhura isn’t here?” Jim asked, taking a forkful of pasta into his mouth. “Oh man. Real food,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and enjoying the taste. But there was a small part of his brain that whispered _It doesn’t taste as good as mom’s pasta_ , and his eyes snapped open, because damn it, that wasn’t true. His mother never cooked him pasta. That was just a figment of his imagination. Just the wishes of a five year old boy, sitting by the comm, waiting for mommy to call…

“She had an important errand to run,” Spock answered calmly as he prepared his salad.

 _If she didn’t, she’d be by your side, wouldn’t she?_ Jim looked at the pasta, suddenly losing his appetite. “Why did you come after me? In my mind, I mean. Why did you meld with me? You could have died like that.”

There was the briefest pause as Spock put down his fork to look at Jim. Conflicting thoughts passed through Spock’s mind and Jim watched fascinated as Spock’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shifted through emotions to arrive at the right conclusion. “As your First Officer, it was only logical of me to-”

“-To bring me back from the dead, Spock? To follow me into my mind to make sure that I awoke? I’m pretty sure that’s not part of any regulations. Try again, Spock.”

Spock looked down at his salad. “Because you…”

 _Because I?_ Jim couldn’t help but to wait with bated breath at what Spock was going to say next. Was he going to say the same words that Jim wanted to hear now that he was alive? Was he going to break Jim’s heart again, telling him what he knows, because Spock couldn’t be his. Spock could never be his.

“I believe I have said this before,” Spock said abruptly. “I do not see a reason to repeat myself.”

Jim chuckled a little at that. “Alright, alright. I get it…” Taking another forkful of pasta into his mouth, he couldn’t help but to grimace now at the pounding remembrance of his mother’s pasta. He put down his fork. “But you know what I don’t get? Why did you just save me? Weren’t there others we could have saved using Khan’s blood?”

“That was Khan’s condition.”

“What?”

“In exchange for the blood and the knowledge to turn it into a cure, we save just you.”

“You bargained with Khan?” 

“Would you not have?”

Jim couldn’t help but to glance back down at the pasta. Because to be entirely honest, he wasn’t sure he could have. If he thought Bones was dying, or God forbid, Spock was… he wouldn’t have asked for Khan to help. He would have forced Khan’s hands. He would have made it very clear that Khan had no other choice. He would have acted just like Admiral Marcus.

“Don’t be silly, Jim. Of course you wouldn’t have. You're too good at underestimating yourself.”

“Shut up, Janice. What do you know?”

Jim paused. What? 

“Captain…?”

Glancing around, Jim realized that Janice wasn’t there. It was just Spock sitting across from him, eating his salad. There was no Janice Rand and he had just talked out loud to himself. Spock just raised a simple brow in question, but Jim couldn’t answer. He wiped his mouth and stood up, reaching for his cane.

“Bathroom.”

And he hobbled away, hoping that the vile would stay down until he got to a toilet.


	10. Disaster Finds a Playfield (With Me)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I love writing this story the best. There's something kind of fun about just slow-build story that looks into various characters' reactions more so than focus around a plot.

Jim did not make it to the bathroom. He ended up curling over a trash can and heaving in there. He held tightly onto the rim, using the trashcan to support his weight up. His legs felt weak, his knees even weaker. It was not a pleasant feeling, and he hated not having any control over his body. His cane was dropped somewhere on his trek here, but he wasn’t really paying attention to that right now. 

“Aw pasta,” he mumbled, staring down at the mess in the trash can with regret. And here he was really hoping that he could actually keep something he ate (That way, he could somehow convince Bones that he really didn't need to be connected to more fluids).

“Never thought you’d have a weak stomach.”

Jim rolled his eyes. _Oh come on! Are you serious?_ Because what kind of a dickwad says things like that after someone puked? He pushed down the initial reaction of irritation and forced himself to look up at the other person. “Look buddy-” he began before he realized who it was that had just spoken to him. He flinched visibly and found himself tumbling down to the ground, looking up at the other figure in disbelief. 

Because standing right there in front of him was Gary Mitchell, holding a tray of food. Just like he used to do when they were still in college, making a total fool out of themselves in the cafeteria. Gary smirked down at him just like everything was normal, like they were still in Jim's head, laughing and joking around because that was what best friends did.

“This can’t be happening,” he whispered. “You’re… I mean... I…”

“Captain!”

Jim’s attention was stolen by Spock for just a second. But when he turned back, Gary was nowhere to be seen. Well that made sense. Gary Mitchell was dead. Killed by Nero. And the Gary Mitchell he was thinking of… Well, he just didn’t exist. He was all in Jim’s head… But didn’t he just wake up from that catastrophe? Why were Gary Mitchell and Janice Rand plaguing him?

“Captain, are you alright?” Spock was already by his side, one hand on Jim’s back and another gripping tightly onto Jim’s cane. Jim did his best to ignore the fact that _Spock was touching him_ , and tried to ground himself back in reality. He could feel the way the cane was sticking at his ribs uncomfortably. And if he couldn’t focus on Spock’s hand on his back, then he was going to focus on that.

“I’m… I’m fine. I just… fell,” he mumbled. He wasn’t going to mention Gary to Spock. Spock was going to worry unnecessarily, which always meant a visit to McCoy. And he just got away from the prying grips of the doctor, damn it.

Then suddenly, he found himself being lifted up in the air, Spock’s arm supporting his legs and his hand still at Jim’s back. The blonde stared in disbelief at Spock who looked impassive as always. “Whu… What are you doing, Spock?” he couldn’t help but to squeeze out. Was it just him or did his voice just crack a little? His face was slowly heating up, and he hoped to god that he wasn’t flushing too noticeably.

“Captain, if you fell, then there is a good chance that it is because of muscle fatigue. You are not going to walk back to your room in this condition.”

“Don’t be stupid! Put me down!”

But instead of letting go, Spock held on tighter. And instead of kicking up fuss protesting, Jim found himself blushing furiously and letting it be. It was stupid of him. He shouldn’t be encouraging this. Spock had Uhura. Spock and Uhura were happy together. So what the hell was he doing letting this be? He was just going to get hurt. He knew it. He knew it so very badly, but he wanted this so very much.

Spock didn’t spare any more words and began to walk back, Jim safe in his arms. The Captain, for the sake of his pride, tried to say a few things here and there, trying to excuse the reason why he was in Spock’s arms. “No, I’m serious,” Jim tried to say as Spock slowly made his way through the lobby. His voice loudly carrying over for everyone else to hear. “I can walk just fine. You don’t have to worry for me like this, Spock.”

But the Vulcan just spoke in his usual articulate reasoning voice, completely dismissing any logic Jim tried to point out. It must have been some sight, because the nurses wouldn’t stop staring at them or giggling softly as they whispered to each other. He knew that he should correct their misconception. Spock and him were not like that (because Spock had Uhura), but he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Hell, he didn't want to get it out of his mouth.

And he regretted not saying anything, because there was Uhura standing in the middle of the lobby like she had just been told that she was reassigned away from the Enterprise, away from Spock. There wasn’t even a falter in Spock’s steps. He just continued to walk as if he didn’t even see her. Predictably, Uhura whirled around and ran out of the hospital. Not so predictably, Spock continued on as if he did not even notice her.

It was times like these that made Jim really confused about the Vulcan. 

“Spock, that was Uhura!”

“Affirmative,” Spock acknowledged. Okay, so at least he saw her. Jim wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that Spock saw her and decided to ignore her or the slight feeling of vindictive glee at the realization.

“What are you doing? Put me down and go after her!”

“Captain, you are my first priority-”

 _Right. Because I’m your Captain. It wasn’t that long ago that you were willing to throw me under the bus for saving your life._ Jim glared at Spock. And with annoyance that stemmed from the simple fact that Spock was doing this because of his rank, he declared, “Spock, don’t be stupid. Put me down on that bench. I’ll sit here and wait for you to come back. Now go after your girl!”

*

Spock found Uhura in the courtyard by a tree. She sat alone, her back leaning against it in a peaceful meditation. He approached her silently and cleared his throat, watching patiently as she opened her eyes and looked a little baffled at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, confused and a little hopeful. 

“The Captain asked me to come see how you are,” Spock answered without missing a beat.

It was fascinating how that one simple sentence completely shut down Uhura’s emotions on her face. Her face reflected nothing she felt, a perfect mask on her face, blocking everything out. It had been one of the reasons why he had been willing to pursue a relationship with her: her tight control on her emotions.

“And now that you’ve seen me, are you going to return to the Captain?”

Spock paused, thinking about the answer to the question carefully. It was obviously loaded. She expected to hear something from him. But what did she think he was going to say versus what did she want to hear? And should he even be bothering with all of this when, knowing the Captain, he probably had already wandered off from his position on the bench in the lobby?

“Until the Captain is well enough to function on his own, it is my duty as his second in command-”

“Spock,” Uhura said, shaking her head a little. She sounded a little disappointed, a little annoyed, and a little amused. She wore a good-natured smile on her face as she asked, “Are you still hiding behind your duty?”

“I do not follow,” Spock admitted, tilting his head to the side. 

“Have you thought at all about what I said? When we broke up?”

He continued to look at her blankly.

She sighed a little. “Spock, what is Kirk to you?”

“He is my Captain.”

“And?”

“… He is my… friend.”

Uhura smiled. “There you go. That’s a lot more honest.” There was a pause and then, “Spock, what am I to you?”

“You are also my friend.” 

Uhura’s eyes became sad at that. But nothing else showed on her face. “But you treat us differently. Jim always comes first for you. Even in matters that you shouldn’t be involved in, you always rush forth blindly when it comes to Jim. Face it, Spock. Your definition of 'friend' is too vague. Think very, very carefully. What is Jim to you?”

Spock’s expression became troubled. What was Jim to him? Wasn’t that obvious to everyone watching? Jim was his Captain. He always came first, no matter what. Jim was his friend; they spend quite a lot of time together, having fun. Jim could make him laugh (on the inside, anyways), make him angry, make him _express_ himself. Jim was like a magic bullet that could poke holes in Spock’s perfect walls, making him express everything that he never wanted anyone to see. Because showing emotion was human. 

And he was so tired of being human.

“Jim is…”

Before he could finish forming his thought, a loud shriek caught their attention. His sharp ears heard exactly where it came from: the lobby of the hospital. _Captain!_ Without a single hesitation, he ran. Using all of his Vulcan muscles, he pushed himself faster, because what had he been thinking, leaving Jim alone? Jim was the Captain of the Flagship of the Federation. He had enemies. Spock should never have left him so helpless…

Spock was so lost in thoughts that he didn’t see Uhura shake her head, an expression on her face very much like she wanted to cry.

*

“Captain!” Spock yelled as he ran in.

And there on the bench, exactly where Spock had left him, was one James Kirk. He was sitting next to Chekov, who was grinning widely like a fool. And standing in front of Chekov was a blushing Sulu, who was staring open mouthed and wide-eyes at the Russian. A nurse nearby was apologizing to everybody for making such a loud noise; she had just been so shocked and delighted. And absolutely nobody was hurt or dying. It appeared that Spock had worried for naught (which he always thought was infinitely better than the alternative).

“Hey Spock!” Jim greeted, waving him over. “You just missed it, man!”

“Sir?”

Grinning widely, Jim replied, “Chekov here just confessed. Now we’re all waiting for Sulu’s brain to reboot so he can answer him properly.” His voice was light and airy, filled with mirth and joy that Spock had missed hearing in the past two weeks. The faintest smile formed on Spock’s lips. Seeing life in his Captain’s eyes, hearing that joyous tone of voice… This had been the correct choice. They had done the right thing, bringing the Captain back from the dead.

“Bu… But Chekov! I’m like… old! I can’t keep up with you when it comes to math! I don’t know Russian. I’m always going off doing dangerous things and-”

“And it’s okay,” Chekov said, smiling shyly. “If you don’t vant me like zhat, it’s okay. But I don’t vant zo live vith the vhat-if’s. I vant zo live vhile ve still can. Vill you live vith me?”

Sulu’s mouth opened, but all that came out was a croak. Then slowly he began to nod. He nodded and nodded before pulling Chekov up to hug him tightly. He buried his face in Chekov’s shorter shoulder, still nodding.

It was the strangest thing. So many people nearby began to clap and cheer for the duo, yelling congratulations to them. Jim just laughed heartily, making Spock’s heart pound a fraction faster…

Oh.

_Oh._

So that was what Uhura had meant. 

Spock stared at his Captain, whose face was open with delight and warmth for the new couple. And for the first time, Spock allowed that smile to form on his face.


	11. Love Seems to Draw Dark, Twisted Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to worry that I'm going to accidentally swap the two chapters of the different stories.... 
> 
> On the other hand, slowly, we're going towards the bottom of things...

“Huh. That’s new.”

At the words, Jim’s head snapped up and he looked at his doctor friend with a raised brow. “New? What is?” With that he took a sip out of his coffee, made after long pestering of the nurses. Ah. Dark aroma of coffee. There was something so soothing about drinking it so early in the morning.

“You drinking coffee,” Leonard said as he came to sit on Jim’s bed. “You’ve always said that booze is the only liquid you needed.” There was a slight pause as the doctor’s brows furrowed. “Jim, is this because of…?”

Jim yanked the cup away from his mouth as if he was burnt. What? He didn’t drink coffee before? What was Leonard talking about? Of course Jim drank coffee every day! How else would people be able to function every day without a shove of caffeine in one’s system? He voiced it as much, but all he got was a worried look back from McCoy.

“Have you been feeling nauseated? Maybe suffering from headaches?” Leonard already had his tricorder out, scanning Jim with a deep set frown on his face. “Damn it, man! I told you to let me know as soon as you feel strange!”

“I don’t feel strange,” Jim protested, trying to pull away from the beeping machine. “I’m fine, Bones!”

“Like hell you are! Remember the last time you said that? You died.”

“Whua-?! Bones, are you seriously going to hold my own death over my head?” When his friend didn’t answer, Jim just groaned and handed over his coffee to his friend. “Here, look! I’m done drinking! I’m not drinking anymore, okay? So can we please not start today off with examinations?”

“Don’t think you can escape, Jim,” Leonard growled, poking Jim’s chest. “We’re going to go through each and every piece of exam-”

“Bones! We already did them yesterday! I don’t want to!” Jim whined with a pout. “Besides, I wanted to go to Pike’s grave site. I slept through his funeral, didn’t I?”

His friend’s hands froze before relaxing. With a stiff nod, he affirmed what was said. “Yeah. It was good that you weren’t there. You probably would have said something ridiculous about him.”

“Aw Bones, you have no faith in me at all!” Even though he laughed, he couldn’t stop the pang of sadness at the thought of missing Pike’s funeral. Then again, what would he have even said? What could he say to the man who believed in him? He wasn’t sure at all.

*

“Wait… Really?”

Leonard nodded slowly, as if he still wasn’t convinced that this was a good idea. “We’ll take a quick field trip down to the grave. Maybe the air would do you some good.”

“Awesome!” Jim was just one short step away from jumping up and down with joy. But of course, his friend knew exactly how to dash that.

“But you have to stay in this wheelchair and I am going to escort you.”

“What? Bones, I can walk just fine!”

“Spock said you collapsed yesterday.”

“That was-”

“Wheelchair or no grave visit.”

Jim sighed. “Fine. You win.”

*

Going to a grave on a sunny day was an odd experience. All the movies that Jim had always seen had the characters going to a grave site on rainy days, overcast days, or something along those lines. So to be here on a bright and happy day made him hesitate. He had never actually gone to visit a grave. Sure there were memorial services for his dad, but he never went. And after his mother had died, he didn’t go to visit her either. He didn’t know whether Sam was alive or not, so that was kind of moot. And Frank? Well, who wanted to visit that drunkard of a bastard’s grave anyways?

Jim wheeled himself through the path, searching for Pike’s. What was he even supposed to say? Should he quote something from a movie he watched? Should he just speak as if Pike was still here? Why did he even want to come here anyways? 

“Hey Jim, you missed it,” Leonard shouted. He pointed over to the square marker on the ground. “He’s over here.”

All the graves were in neat little rows, all with the same square markers. Starfleet’s official gravesite. Jim hoped that he never ended up here, with all the dead people lined up in never ending rows. All lifeless without any taste. Surely even the dead would feel insulted? He wheeled back towards Leonard, greeted a little, and then went towards Pike’s little marker. 

“Admiral Chris Pike,” it read. “Died 2259 in the line of duty.”

And that was all it said. As if Christopher Pike could be explained in those nine words and one number. As if Christopher Pike was someone who didn’t even deserve a full sentence, or a description or anything that wasn’t just those pathetic lines. As if Christopher Pike wasn’t a hero who saved Jim from wasting away in Iowa. As if Christopher Pike wasn’t the hard but encouraging parent who always made sure that Jim was doing the right thing. As if Christopher Pike didn’t save the Federation on his own travels through the stars. As if Christopher Pike could be summed up in that simple fragment.

Jim put down the flower Leonard insisted that he take along. But looking down at the square marker, he found that suddenly, he had nothing he wanted to say. Nothing he could say. Just as when he first realized that Pike was dead and all he could do was curl up on Pike’s form, crying, he couldn’t form any words at all. It seemed so long ago, when he first met Pike. When Pike first recruited him. When Pike was shot in that chaos… He had nothing to say then either. Just words that chased one another in his head as he tried hard not to break completely. 

“He was a good man,” Leonard said as he came to stand behind Jim.

“Yeah…” 

“Probably would have been a hell of a captain. Too bad we never got to serve more than few minutes with him.”

Jim looked down at his lap. Nero. Nero and Khan. The two who ensured Pike’s demise as a Captain and later ended his life… No. If it hadn’t been for Jim, as an Admiral, Pike would never have been in that room. So really, it had been Jim. If Jim hadn't agreed to save that planet...

“What’s going to happen to Khan?” 

His friend walked around until he was facing Jim. Then, making sure that Jim could see how crazy this was, Leonard stressed, “What the hell do you care what happens to him?”

“I can’t fault him, you know. He just wanted what was the best for his family.”

“That would work better if he hadn’t threatened to kill us.”

“We’d do the same, though. If each other was on the line…”

“I’m pretty damned sure we wouldn’t try to destroy all of Federation,” Leonard growled. “Now get that straight in your brain, Jim. We are nothing like him, and he like us. Just because I used his blood to save you doesn’t mean you owe him squat. Do you understand?”

Jim nodded slowly, disbelievingly. It just caused for his friend to sigh heavily. “Is there anyone else you want to see?” he asked, motioning to the rest of the graveyard. “Might as well as visit a few more while we’re here.”

“Where are my crew buried?”

*

37.

In one whole year, Captain Kirk never lost a single member of his crew. Until Khan. 

His hands clenched into fists as he stared at the grave markers, all of them lined just as lifelessly as Pike’s. An ancient anger he had buried away on Tarus IV reared its ugly head. These were good people. Those who hadn’t have to die if only they hadn’t followed Jim. If only they hadn’t been assigned to him. And now they were buried six feet under, with nothing but Starfleet flags to give to their family as a reminder of what ‘heroes’ they had been. These people didn’t have to die.

He felt a soft hand on his fists, but he did not look up. He didn’t need Leonard to try and comfort him like this. He just wanted to be left alone.

“It wasn’t your fault,” came the soft voice of a young girl who was most definitely not Leonard McCoy.

Jim looked up slowly, dreading what he was going to see. And he was right. It was his youngest sister, Rose, who was looking at him with a sad smile. Except it wasn’t his youngest sister. Because he didn’t have a sister. Rose was just a girl he couldn’t save on Tarus IV, which meant that he was seeing things again.

“Sometimes, bad things just happen.”

 _Don’t talk back to her,_ he told himself as he clenched his fists tighter. _Don’t say anything. If Bones hears, he’s going to want another examination._

“And it’s not fair, but that’s just the way life is. Like when Bellie the Kitty went to sleep and wouldn’t wake up. Or like when you and Ruth-”

“Shut up! None of that ever happened! It’s just all in my head and I _know that!_ ”

“Jim? Who are you talking to?”

The blonde’s head snapped up at the sound of his friend’s voice. And by the time he looked back, Rose was gone. Just like the others. And even without looking at his friend’s face, he knew exactly what Leonard was thinking. As much as Jim hated to admit it, Leonard was right. 

Something was wrong with him.

*

“How long did you know?” Spock asked as he walked over to Uhura’s table.

She glanced up for a brief second before returning to her work on her PADD. “I’m guessing you finally figured out what I was talking about then?”

Spock gave her a nod of affirmation, which she didn’t see. “Yes,” he said finally.

“Took you long enough,” she said. Her voice was soft, gentle. But there was a small edge to it. Almost as if she was hurt by this conversation. But that made no sense. Uhura was the one who called things off because she noticed it. So why was she acting like this?

“How long did you know?”

“I suspected,” she admitted. Still, she refused to look up from her PADD. “You hardly look away from him when he’s in the room.”

Spock looked down for a second to collect his thoughts. Was that true? Did he really stare at the Captain? “Why have you not said anything before?”

Finally, she looked up, anger and unshed tears shining in her eyes. “Are you seriously asking me that question, Spock? Because you’re many things, but an insensitive bastard used to not be one of them. If you’re done questioning me, then please leave. Scotty’s coming to meet me.”

At the inquisitive raise of the eyebrow, Uhura rolled her eyes. “And what’s that look supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, Nyota. I did not come here to anger you.”

She snorted at that. “Right. Of course not. Look Spock. I know I said we’re over, but you need to give me space. I’m… I’m not like you. I can’t just turn off how I feel about people. So please… Just leave me alone.”

“I… apologize.”

“Leave.” It wasn’t a command. It was more of a soft plead. Because Uhura looked like she was ready to break, and Spock had caused it. 

Bowing his head, he quickly walked away, her words trailing his thoughts like a ghost. _But I can’t just turn it off, either, Nyota,_ he couldn’t help but to think. _At least not for the Captain._ And he knew that that was bad, because the Captain was not the type to get tied down. Because the Captain didn’t fall in love. Because the Captain could never look in Spock’s direction and think that they were meant to be.

He wondered if this was how Nyota felt when she broke up with him.


	12. Like Water in a Desert (Mercy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm guessing three or so chapters and we'll be done.

“So your mind recreated an entire new word in the short time you were asleep,” Leonard muttered as he tapped his chin. “And in it, you lived as someone different.”

“Sort of. I mean, I was still me. It was just a different timeline with different people. Khan already gave me a lecture about them, you know,” Jim admitted. The two were currently sitting back at the hospital cafeteria, drinking tea and munching on small snacks that they forced the nurses to fork over. “And let me tell you, it’s all kinds of creepy to have some random dude in your head psycho-analyze you just because he can… Especially when said random dude is in the form of your enemy who just killed your mentor. Oh, and he’s right about what he’s saying.”

“What I don’t understand is why Khan manifested in your mind when I didn’t show up,” Leonard said. 

“Technically, Khan only showed up to wake me up,” Jim corrected. He didn't mention why he thought his mind didn't create Leonard. Because it would be certain that he would never want to wake up otherwise. “Except I guess that’s still worrying, huh?”

“Yup.” Leonard took a bite out of a cookie, almost nonchalant.

Jim sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He really didn’t like this conversation at all. “So what does it all mean? Because I’ve been trying to puzzle that one out but I’m not really getting anywhere.”

“And who would have thought that the day would come when Jim Kirk would admit that he didn’t know what was happening in his own head?” Leonard said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes as well, in a manner that screamed that he really didn’t quite care what happened.

“Bones!” Jim whined. He flicked a crumb at his friend’s direction, hoping that that would distract him away for a bit. It didn’t. Instead, it launched his friend on a small tangent about hopeless idiots and their mess. “Come on! You probably have some kind of an idea about why that happened. Else you wouldn’t be so tight-lipped about it.”

Leonard allowed for the pause between them to grow as he took another bite of the cookie and chewed slowly. Jim could see the gears churn as Leonard carefully assessed the situation. Many people often made the assumption that Jim and Spock were smarter than Leonard. And perhaps in some academic sense, that was true. However, out of the three of them, the one who was the most perceptive when it came to humans and how they worked was Leonard. Without a doubt, Leonard was the best, safest bet when it came to this analysis.

“The best way to think of it, Jim,” Leonard began slowly, “would be by saying that you rejected this reality. By creating a different one in your mind, where you have family, where you were happy-”

“I wasn’t-”

“Don’t interrupt, kid. You were happy. Well, happier than what you had in this life, anyways. Now from what I can understand, you didn’t want to wake up, which would have led to your death. Hence the reason why your ‘Will-to-Live’ took on a form in your head. And well… the reason why you would keep seeing those people despite being awake… that would be because you want to go back. You’re rejecting this reality, Jim, for a dream of another reality that actually doesn’t exist. You don’t want to be here, do you?”

“Don’t be stupid! Of course I want to stay here! Janice, how could you ever think like that?” Jim demanded. He glared at his friend, teeth gritting together in frustration. 

“Because I’m not Janice. And you keep looking for her.”

Jim found that he couldn’t say anything to that.

*

Spock located Jim on top of the roof, just as Jim figured he would eventually be found. He had been leaning into the fence, hand gripping the steel tightly as he looked forlornly out into the caged sky. The fence meant to stop people from jumping off the roof of the hospital was keeping him locked in. Ironic. And as Jim continued to stare out into the caged sky, Spock walked towards him, letting out a puff of breath that Jim refused to believe was relief. 

“Captain,” the Vulcan greeted as he walked towards him. “How are you feeling?”

“Hey Spock,” Jim mumbled softly. “It’s Jim.”

“Jim, then.”

The blonde chuckled lightly and turned to look at Spock. “Did you just agree with me?” 

Spock just tilted his head in acknowledgement, letting the movement speak all the words he needed to say.

Sighing softly, Jim returned to looking out into caged sky. “I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking.”

“If you really are, then why was Doctor McCoy pacing downstairs, muttering under his breath about a ‘damned brat?’” 

Spock’s stare prickled the back of Jim’s neck, unnerving the Captain. The blonde just shook his head, trying to ignore the insistent worried stare that kept pushing the question that he really didn’t know how to answer. Leonard had already informed him that it had been Spock who went under. That Spock in his mind hadn’t been a projection. Then he had chosen to follow Jim into his mind to try and wake him up. And Jim really didn’t know what to say or do with that knowledge.

“Jim?”

The name snapped him out of his thoughts more so than anything. Did Spock just willingly call him by his name? Jim couldn’t stop the smile from forming on his face before he turned around to face Spock again. 

“Okay, fine. You win. I’m okay, Spock. Nothing’s wrong with me. Bones’s just overreacting as usual.” Jim gave his First Officer an easy smile, hoping that that would cover up the lie. But the Vulcan was, as usual, relentless.

“If something is wrong, I would prefer that you tell me honestly.”

Oh, that was just low. Jim closed his eyes for a second before reopening them with a cocky smirk. “That’s not really comforting coming from a guy with relationship issues.”

But Spock just raised a brow as if he didn’t quite understand, and it just drove Jim mad sometimes the way the Vulcan seemed to hide. Jim sidestepped him and took a few steps away, just so he could breathe.

“I’m fine,” he growled again. “I’m _fine_.”

“If that is true, then why are you running from me?” 

Jim looked away, this time towards the one exit on the roof. Perhaps if he moved fast enough, he would be able to reach there… He shook that thought away and turned to face Spock. “I’m not running, Spock.”

“Then why do you keep backing away?”

It was a good point. Why was he backing away? He was Jim Kirk, for Chris’s sake! He was supposed to face the world with a big grin on his face and a cocky attitude. He wasn’t supposed to be squirming under the scrutiny of his First Officer. So he squared himself, feet apart, chin up, eyes straight. And with a deep breath to calm himself, he looked at Spock head-on.

“I’m not running,” he repeated.

The Vulcan hesitated for a second before he took a step forward. Jim did not back away. This seemed to have given Spock enough courage to walk forward. He only stopped when they were chest-to-chest, standing calmly the way they did two years ago during the Nero attack, when they both had been fueled by anger or some mutated form of it. Still, Jim did not back away, although his breathing sped up and he was certain that Spock could hear the ratta-tat-tat of his heartbeat.

“Spock… what about Uhura?”

There was that tilt of the head again, confusion marring the face for a second before realization flashed in his eyes. Then with the gentlest of tones, Spock said, “You are mistaken. Nyota and I are no longer together.”

But did that make this right? Jim was still the Captain of the Enterprise and Spock was the First Officer. No matter how he looked at it, this was a terrible mistake. Relationship between a boss and his subordinate never worked out. It always became something of a power struggle, and Jim already knew what people were going to say. And even if it wasn’t true (which wasn’t possible, because there was no way that Spock actually liked him), Jim wasn’t going to let people talk bad about Spock. He just couldn’t.

“You’re running again.”

“No, I’m not,” Jim replied. He was standing up to Spock, looking at him. He watched the whole time, eyes never straying from Spock’s. They held each other’s gaze steadily, even despite the confusion in Spock’s eyes…

Wait. Confusion?

“Jim, who are you speaking to?”

“Buuusted,” sang the voice of Gary Mitchell in Jim’s ear. He sounded gleeful, which was quite silly seeing that Jim was just busted for being insane. You would think Jim’s projections would actually care about things like that.

“It’s nothing.”

“Please be honest with me.”

“You might as well. I mean, you abandoned us for him,” Gary hissed in Jim’s ears.

And that was the last straw. Jim turned towards Gary’s voice, only to be met with air. He could feel a small growl rising from the back of his throat and he could feel Spock’s worried stare. But as always, there was no one to take his anger out on. Jim pulled away from Spock, beginning to walk away but Spock reached forward and grabbed his shoulder.

“Jim.”

It was just so unfair! Why was it that all Spock had to do was say his name and he just caved? Jim closed his eyes for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. His First Officer wanted to know what was wrong with him? Fine. He’ll say it. He turned around to face Spock again, brushing off the Vulcan’s hand as he did so.

“I’m going crazy, Spock. According to Bones, it’s because I’m rejecting this reality. There. Now you know. Can you please leave me alone now?”

“I hardly think leaving you alone would solve this problem. As your First Officer, I will stand by you and help you.”

Jim lowered his face to hide the small smile on his face. Trust Spock to think that you could solve a mental patient. But it was a nice gesture, even if he knew how futile that was. The last time he had been crazy… Wait a minute. The last time he had been crazy was in his mind, in a dream. But what if that applied now as well? What if this ‘reality’ was also a lie? Maybe that was why the people from his ‘dream’ kept walking around, trying to let him know that there was something wrong. 

No. If he went down that route, he was going to be trapped in a never ending self-doubt of what was real and what wasn’t. He had to trust that he was awake and in reality. He had to trust in Bones and Spock and the intense feelings he held for the Enterprise, even if his feelings from the dreams were just as intense. Instead, he had to figure out why he was experiencing this. He had to find a way to ground himself in reality, even if it meant abandoning the people from his dream.

“Why does the doctor believe you are rejecting this reality?” Spock asked, breaking Jim out of his thoughts.

“Uh… I’m not sure. I think he said something about me not wanting to wake up. That that might factor into why I’m going crazy. Because I want to go back to that world.”

“Do you?”

And that was the question, wasn’t it? Did he really want to go back to that world? A world where his dad was alive, his mom was happy, and he had a family. A world where he loved, where he had close friends, where he genuinely was happy, despite the small bumps in life here and there? Did he want to return to Gary and Janice, to Rose and Alisha?

“I don’t know,” Jim admitted. And he really didn’t. Because part of him sort of did, but he knew what that really meant. That it would mean saying goodbye to Bones, to the Enterprise, to Spock…

There was a small pause as Jim allowed Spock to think. Then suddenly, Spock’s hand rested lightly on Jim’s chin before pushing it up. He met Jim’s blue eyes as he calmly stated his conclusion. “It is illogical of me to say this, but I believe it may help in your decision. Jim, I want you to stay. Do not leave me again.”

It was a foolish thing to do, especially after hearing something so heartfelt from Spock. Especially since it was _Spock_. The Captain of the Enterprise could very safely say that he wasn’t thinking at all. Because as soon as Spock finished speaking, Jim closed the distance between their lips.

*

Scotty sat down heavily next to Sulu, whose giant grin quickly faded into a look of worry at the sight of the Scott. “Hey, you alright?” he asked.

“Just a wee bit tired, laddie,” Scotty said softly, rubbing his face. “Just one of those days.”

“You’ve been having a lot of those ‘one of those days,’” Sulu observed with a frown. “Is it Uhura?”

“Oh, goodness no! The lassie has been a wonderful light! It’s just…”

“You kind of like her and she kind of likes Spock?” Sulu ventured to guess.

Scotty’s look softened a tad as he looked at the ground. “I know that she needs space. And I know that she needs a friend. But sometimes, I just want to hug her and tell her life isn’t going to fall apart. That I’m here, and that I’m going to keep staying here.”

“You’re a good man, Scotty,” Sulu told him, patting his shoulder. “You’re probably one in a thousand who can honestly say that they love someone without wanting something in return.”

“It’s not really a good feeling, I’m afraid.” Scotty sighed heavily before turning to Sulu, a lighter smile on his face. “I did hear the good news. You and Chekov are finally together, right? Congratulations!”

Sulu beamed brightly and was about to launch into how just _perfect_ the world seemed when the two of them saw the Starfleet officials walk by. The two paused in their conversation and watched, dreading a little at what this could potentially mean. The officials walked in stiff marching pattern, following the Admiral who was leading them into the hospital. Sulu and Scotty both exchanged a glance before quickly following after them.

The Admiral led his group into the lobby and made a very simple demand, “Call Doctor Leonard McCoy down.”

It took exactly three point five minutes for Leonard to be dragged from wherever he had been, still wearing hospital work clothes. He glared at the admiral and grouched at the group, but everything changed when the Admiral pulled out his PADD and began to read.

“On behalf of the Federation, Doctor Leonard H. McCoy, you are under arrest for two major charges: withholding intergalactic-threatening knowledge from the Federation and for aiding a known terrorist for personal gain. There are also minor charges, which will be read to you on a later time. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you do not have one, the Federation will provide one for you. Do you understand the nature of your arrest and your rights?”

Every eye turned to Leonard as the doctor stared shell-shocked at the Admiral. When no reply came, the Admiral nodded and the soldiers stood in formation, their phasers drawn and aimed at the doctor. 

“If you attempt to run, you will be apprehended without your rights. Any force of violence will be used if you resist. Will you come with us quietly?”

Then slowly, Leonard McCoy nodded. He held out his hands to be cuffed, and he was marched out of the hospital like a common prisoner. Sulu and Scotty exchanged a look before both running off to find their Captain.


	13. Shine through My Memory (Blindly Face the Blazing Gun)

Jim sipped the coffee quietly as his eyes skimmed through the PADD, reading carefully what it said about Leonard’s charges. Scotty and Sulu had already briefed him last night about what had happened. And now, he had to figure out how to get his friend out as swiftly as possible without rousing the entire Federation against them. Spock sat beside him with his own stack of PADD, looking calm as he always did. 

“I did not know you drank coffee,” Spock said calmly. 

Okay. Fine the last part was sort of a lie. Spock, despite having his own stack of PADD, was really just staring at Jim. Right after the kiss, Jim had apologized quickly and ran the other way until he ran into Sulu and Scotty. Since then, Spock had been following him almost like a shadow, watching him. It would be kind of scary if it wasn’t because Jim kissed and ran. But they had more important thing to worry about. The kiss couldn’t be in their minds. 

Gods, he needed to stop thinking about that kiss.

“It helps me think,” Jim mumbled, refusing to look over at Spock. He took another sip. “You find anything to help Bones?”

Spock didn’t answer, which meant that he was trying to get Jim to look at him. The blonde refused. He glared into his PADD, forcing himself to try and focus on the words. He had to save Leonard. He had to. Especially after all that Leonard had done for him, this would be the least he could do.

“You know, none of these charges say anything about bringing the dead back to life,” Jim said, trying to fill up the air with unnecessary chatter. “So at least we know that they can’t publicly charge Bones for that.”

“Jim-”

“ _Captain_ ,” Jim quickly corrected. “It’s Captain when we’re working, Spock.”

Jim refused to look away from the PADD. He didn’t want to know what kind of expression was on Spock’s face. Shock? Confusion? Hurt? Or maybe Spock had that look of cold calm again.

“Captain, if we could discuss what happened earlier-”

“Nothing to discuss. Nothing to say. Hey, do we have any clips aboard the Enterprise that we could use to prove that Bones wasn’t helping Khan? Because seriously, of anyone, wouldn’t it make more sense to say that I was helping Khan?”

“I do not think such files exist. However, I shall inform Mr. Scott and Mr. Hendorff to look into it,” Spock said calmly. Jim heard him open his mouth, taking a sharp intake of breath, but no more words came out. Jim refused to look at him.

“Awesome. Then next on the agenda would be to find a lawyer who knows the lingo to help us out.”

“It shall be done.”

“Set up a meeting for me to talk to Khan. He might notice something we missed.”

“No.”

Jim paused and finally looked up from his PADD. “Excuse me?”

“No. You will not talk to that man,” Spock said firmly, looking straight into Jim’s eyes to let him know that he meant business. “There is nothing that man can say that we cannot think of ourselves. It is more logical to discuss this between ourselves and find a course to help the doctor.”

“Alright fine. I won’t talk to Khan. But do you see something here that we can use, Spock? Because I seriously don’t.” With that Jim passed his PADD over to the Vulcan, who took it without a word.

There were a few minutes of pause as Spock quickly flipped through the files, lips drawn in a thin line. Then he looked back up and stated, “Why will you not discuss it with me?”

“What? Spock, can we please focus on Bones here? The dude’s in jail because of me!”

“No.” Spock put the PADD down. “You are running again.”

“Jesus, Spock! Okay, it was a mistake. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you. There, is that what you wanted to hear?”

Spock reached over and grabbed Jim’s hand, a bold move in all definition. Then very calmly, Spock said, “I would like to kiss you again.”

And well, what was Jim supposed to say to that?

*

Leonard McCoy stared back at the Admiral with an impassive look.

“The charges against you will lessen, if you will just tell us how you did it,” the Admiral said. He leaned forward as he spoke, very much interested in this topic. “Give us the procedure. Not only will you be given a second chance, but think of all the innocent lives you would be able to save. As a doctor, isn’t that something you want?”

Leonard refused to answer. Instead, he just continued to stare at the Admiral as if he did not comprehend. It only served to frustrate the Admiral more.

“We can’t just drop all charges!” the Admiral snarled. “Do you know how that would reflect on the Federation? You should be grateful for this chance that we’re giving you!”

There was a brief pause before Leonard took a deep breath. Then he said, in a very flat tone devoid of his Southern drawl that only appeared when he was annoyed, “There is nothing to say or negotiate.”

“If you do not cooperate, we will take the rest of the crew. All of you can be charged for aiding a known criminal. Especially your precious Captain that you’re throwing everything away for.”

Leonard couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face nor the dry chuckle that escaped his lips. “You’ve got nothing on him, darling,” he said, the Southern drawl suddenly thick in his speech. “And even if you did, how do you plan to bring down the hero of the Federation? Jim Kirk is untouchable, especially by your standards.”

The Admiral visibly tensed, clearly not liking the implication of Leonard’s words. But Leonard was done speaking. They had nothing that they could offer him to make him break the promise to Khan. 

Just as they had nothing to offer him to betray the Enterprise or her Captain.

*

“And now that your healer has been taken, what do you plan to do?” 

Jim closed his eyes, trying to visualize himself somewhere that wasn’t here.

“Well, there are a few options that you could take. For one, you can very easily abandon him. After all, a doctor is one of the easiest things to procure in Starfleet, am I correct?” Without even waiting for an answer, the voice continued. “Another is to break him out. But that would seal his fate as a criminal in the eyes of everyone around. You could go ahead with the legal route, except you can’t expect the Federation to fight fair. After all, taking your doctor wasn’t exactly the noblest thing they could have done. Then again… Starfleet has long stopped being noble, hasn’t it, _Captain_?”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Jim said finally. He opened his eyes and groaned when he realized that this hallucination wasn’t going to be going away. Instead, Khan Noonien Singh was standing in front of him, grinning smugly down at him like a predator with a prey in sight. “And what are you even doing here, anyways? Does my ‘Will-to-Live’ want to talk with me or something? Because there’s really no need to see your face again.”

“How very hurtful of you,” Khan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “And despite your harsh words, you expect me to be a saint, giving you a free handout on why your mind is crazy. I’ve done the analysis last time, why don’t you give it a try?”

“Don’t feel like it.”

“Why? Because you don’t like the way your mind projects things? Or because you’re getting deeply tired of the fact that you cannot seem to figure out how your mind works without someone breaking it down and explaining it to you?”

“Neither,” Jim growled. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“Just like you don’t want to discuss why you have a sudden craving for coffee with milk. That’s my order, you know.”

Jim pressed his hands against his ears, hoping that that simple act might quiet the other man in the room. It did no such thing. Instead, Khan moved to stand in front of him, smirking all the while. He grabbed Jim’s chin and lifted it, making sure that their eyes met. And slowly enough that Jim could read his lips, Khan said, “Just like you don’t want to discuss your First Officer.”

The Captain pulled himself away, refusing to listen to this any longer. He stood with his back to Khan, hands no longer covering his ears. He had every intent to walk away, but Khan continued to speak and he found himself compelled to listen.

“Just like you don’t want to discuss the reason why you want to go back to the dream.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Jim said finally. He turned around to face Khan, who was still smirking.

“Oh, of course, _Captain_. Whatever you say.”

“What do you want from me?”

There was a pause as Khan actually looked thoughtful at the question. Then the grin was back, and whatever sincere look he had on was gone within a flash. “I want you to own up and stop running away. Take responsibility for once.” 

“Take respon-? Are you kidding me? That’s exactly what I’m doing! Why else do you think I’ve been flipping through all of these law PADDs to figure out how to help Bones?”

“Because you already know exactly what you have to do. To help your doctor and to prevent yourself from going insane. What I don’t understand is why you haven’t done it yet.” Khan tilted his head, eyes judging Jim of all the things he has yet to do. “For a man who has come back from the dead, you are strangely fearful of living… Perhaps that is what holds you back. Fear that you won’t make it alive this time.”

“You know that’s not true. I’ve never been much for fearing for my life,” Jim said, shaking his head. Khan wanted him to be honest? Fine. He could be honest. “You want my analysis? Okay. You’re here right now because there’s only one way that I can reliably get McCoy out without incriminating him forever, because I’m not going to let him rot in jail. You know that I know, but you also know that I’m not going to take that final step if I don’t have some kind of a motivation.”

“And you think I’m your motivation?”

“No. My motivation is Bones and Spock. You’re my reminder. One last push, if you will.” 

“Have I pushed you?”

Jim glanced down for a second before grinning humorlessly at Khan. “You always push me.”

“Very well. Then why do you crave to return to the dreams? Surely you have some theories?”

“I don’t crave it,” Jim replied quickly. “It’s just… things were easier there. Because it was my own mind, of course. Because it could give me what I wanted. If I needed to be convinced that I was in a real world, which has drama, it gave it to me. If I wanted to write a best-selling novella, then I could do it. It felt like work at the time, but it really wasn’t. It was a fake happiness.”

“And you prefer that?”

“Over having to go through Starfleet bullshit?”

Khan chuckled at that. “Well, that just leaves one more thing for you to analyze.”

“I’m not talking about my love life with you.”

“Why not? I’m just your projection, after all. It’s the same as talking to yourself. So bore me, _Captain_. Tell me all the details of how your Vulcan’s eyes are smoldering and of how the small quirks of his lips make your heart flutter.”

Jim groaned, turning away from Khan. “I hate you. And what’s the point of telling you anyways if you already know what I’m going to say?”

“Because there’s a joy in forcing you to say the words out loud,” Khan claimed calmly with a smirk.

“Sadist.”

“Only in your head.”

“So what now?”

Khan raised a brow, letting Jim know exactly what he thought of the question: stupid. “Now, I believe you execute your plan.”

Jim nodded slowly. “But what if it-”

“Captain.”

Jim looked up at Khan, meeting the familiar azure eyes.

“Come to me.”


	14. I'm Afraid I Will be Left Here Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's crazy how I'm almost finished with this story.
> 
> Oh, and I do not own any references made in this chapter. They were made solely for your/my entertainment.

“Ah, thanks for coming to see me guys,” Jim said with a proud grin when he spotted his crew. He put on the offered Starfleet jacket with ease, batting off Spock’s helping hand. The day had finally come. Due to the simple fact that Leonard “Motherhen” McCoy wasn’t here to keep Jim locked up in the hospital, he was being discharged. It was one of the very few things on the list of ‘good’ that happened because McCoy wasn’t there.

“Where else would we be, if not here?” Sulu asked with a laugh. Jim did not miss the way his hands were holding Chekov’s, and how the two’s eyes never really strayed far from one another. Well, at least someone was taking their role of boyfriend seriously. Then he noticed the way Spock stood too close to him and felt his face heat up.

“It’s not every day that our Captain comes back from the dead and gets discharged from the hospital,” Scotty added with a good natured smile. Uhura stood close to him, but there was sadness in her eyes whenever she glanced over at Spock. But for Jim’s sake, she was trying to smile. He kind of hated himself for stealing her boyfriend. He was also thankful, too. That she had been so understanding and calm about all of it.

“So did you guys get everything I asked for to save Bones?”

They nodded affirmative and Jim let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Then let’s get to it.”

*

It never ceased to surprise Jim how easily people were willing to be fooled. As long as they believed you were doing one thing, they did not question exactly what you were actually planning to do. The lawyer looked at him with thinned lips and even tighter nod.

“Theoretically speaking, yes. That should be more than enough to get doctor McCoy free,” she said, looking uneasily at Jim. “But doing so would mean-”

Jim grinned. “Just follow your instructions. Distract my crew with other law-bullshit that doesn't really apply. And if they ask-”

“I knew nothing.”

*

The trial was in five days. And in five days, the crew of the Enterprise had to find a way to prove Leonard McCoy’s innocence. Of course, Jim already had a way that he was ready to go through. But he had to make sure that the rest of the crew didn’t suspect anything. To make sure, the lawyer supplied them all with files that may or may not help the case, depending on the wording. Since it would be most helpful to look through the files together, they decided to crash over at Sulu's place. After all, he actually had a house in San Francisco, instead of standard-issued Starfleet dorms.

The part that Jim liked the most about Sulu’s place was all the coffee. Apparently Sulu was some kind of a coffee nut. He had a coffee grinder and beans, all lined neatly in his shelves with adorable labels with almost girlie handwriting. Jim had a feeling it was Chekov who wrote it, but he didn’t dare actually say anything out loud. But he did spot Uhura teasing the young Russian, both with light smiles on their faces.

“So I see that you guys have moved together while no one else was watching,” Jim couldn’t help but to comment as he glanced at the dirty dishes, the coat wreck, and everything that were in pairs. A small grin formed on his face as he looked at the pair in question. 

Both Chekov and Sulu blushed. “Something like zhat,” Chekov said with a small nod. Sulu smiled and held Chekov’s hand with the softest of all smiles. 

“Okay, can we please focus on getting doctor McCoy out of prison?” Uhura asked, spreading the necessary PADDs out in front of them on the table. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Sulu said, but the smile never faded from his face. “Anyone want some coffee before we start?”

“It doesn’t matter as long as you add milk to it.” Jim answered with a grin.

*

It took two days for Jim to get everything ready. And in that two days, no one suspected anything. No one expect Spock, who always treated Jim like he was up to something. And although, technically speaking, it should have been hard to escape Spock's scrutiny, Jim did so with relative ease (it helped that he snuck a bit of chocolate in Spock's drink, making the Vulcan in question drowsy). The rest of the group went down just as easily, after all, they were just humans, and with so much data to crunch through, all of them were tired.

At 2 am, when everyone was asleep, Jim took a cup of coffee and left.

*

Bribing the security officer was the easiest thing Jim had done in a while. It helped that he was Captain James T. Kirk, and no one wanted to be known as the douchebag who got in the way of the Hero of the Federation. Due to all the hoopla over McCoy being arrested, the sentencing on Khan had been pushed back. It also meant that there were less guards around this part of prison. It was exactly what Jim had been waiting for.

He sat alone in the interrogation chamber, the cup of steaming coffee in front of him. He drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for the guards. Then finally, finally, the guards brought Khan into the isolated room. Jim motioned for the rest to leave. And with a warning of “Just five minutes,” they did.

“Now this sure is a surprise,” Khan said, looking at Jim with impassive eyes. 

“You don’t look very surprised,” Jim couldn’t help but to say. He paused for a bit before pushing the cup of coffee over to the terrorist. “Thought you might like a drink.”

Khan’s lips thinned. “If this is your idea of a joke, Captain-”

“Not a joke,” Jim said quickly, holding up his hands. “Just thought that you might enjoy coffee. I don’t think Marcus ever let you have a sip.”

A beat of silence passed between them. “No, he didn’t,” he admitted. Then carefully, he reached over and took a sip. Khan froze. “You added milk. How did you know that this is how I like my coffee?”

Jim didn’t answer. Instead, he just looked down at his hands. 

“My blood,” Khan said slowly. “Are you telling me that it has given you insight into me?”

“I don’t know,” Jim admitted. “To be honest, I’m kind of shocked about that too.”

“What have you been seeing?” Khan demanded, staring at him like he was an interesting scientific experiment. Which, Jim supposed, was pretty much the truth. “Any nauseas? Headaches?”

“We’ll have time for that later,” Jim said.

“Time? I’m going to be put back into cryogenic sleep soon. Pray tell me, when do you think we’ll have the time to talk?”

“It’s the coffee.”

Khan paused mid-drink to put down the cup. He looked at Jim with an undecipherable look before realization flashed in his eyes. “You-?!” He grabbed at his chest, gasping for air. Blue-green eyes blazed with anger as he glared at Jim before collapsing on the table; eyes fast becoming unfocused.

Jim sighed softly. Part one done. And now for the next part…

*

Spock’s head snapped up at the sound of the beeping communicator. A quick glance at the clock assured him it was 9 am. He had been working all night at Sulu’s place (where everyone else was), which wasn’t a problem at all, except for the fact that he had been working with the Captain, who was no longer in the room. Where was he now? How did Spock not notice Jim leaving?

He stood up, stretching a little before reaching for his comm. “Commander Spock here.”

“Sir, there’s… been a situation. It’s… the Captain.”

Spock felt the world pause as his heart struggle to continue to beat. The Captain? What happened? Did Khan’s blood not take? But he was fine until now! Did the Captain accidentally eat something he was allergic to? 

“What happened? Is he alright?”

“Uh… I believe he just betrayed the Federation.”

*

“You have got to be kidding me!” Scotty exclaimed as they gathered together to see the news. Uhura placed her hand on his shoulder, and he shot her a grateful look, but both of their faces were thick with worry.

“Zhis has zo be a joke!” Chekov agreed, his voice trembling at the accusation on the news.

But the video clip that the media was playing was clear and to the point. It was the footage of their Captain, looking into the camera, leaving behind a grinning message for the world. 

“You know, I have to thank the Starfleet officials for arresting the red herring. I thought for sure they would be smarter than to fall for an easy target like Leonard McCoy, but there they went, arresting him! And while they were distracted, I just walked into their prison base and freed my partner, Khan. Amazing how useless the people you trust to protect you are, aren’t they? Oh, and don’t bother trying to locate his crewmen. I’ve already taken the liberty of taking them with me when we left. And just in case you start checking all the space docks for where we are, this arrived three hours after we’ve left. So _hasta la vista_ , babies. And thanks for all the fish.”

Then the news anchors came on, face distorted with anger and extreme frustration as they began to accuse Starfleet of arresting innocent doctors while the real criminal got away. They all seemed to have forgotten how just few short weeks ago, they had celebrated Captain Kirk as one of the heroes of the Federation.

Spock walked in to see the latter half of the accusation, face flushed green and eyes downcast. “It is true,” he said softly. “Our Captain casually strolled into the prison containing Khan and simply walked out with the terrorist by disguising himself as a trash-collector and Khan as the trash.”

“But _why_?” Sulu asked. “I mean. Isn’t there a better way to show the people that doctor McCoy is innocent?”

“Yes,” Uhura muttered darkly. “But this is the only sure-fire way to get him freed and away from the Starfleet officials who want to use his knowledge for other things. It also turns Leonard into an untouchable martyr. He won’t be bothered by Starfleet, not with the media up in arms about it. On top of all that, it makes sure that Khan and his people’s blood can’t be abused.”

“It’s genius,” Scotty said finally, looking forlornly at the news. “Genius and mad. Just like you’d expect from Captain Kirk.”

But those words were not what Spock wanted to hear. He knew how smart Jim was (did everyone magically forget about the Kobayashi Maru?), he knew how creative Jim could be. He also knew how crazy Jim could be. He knew so much about Jim, about how he thought, how he behaved. Then why was it that he could not predict Jim's movements? Why was it that he didn't see this coming? But worst still...

“Zhen vhy didn’t he zell us?” Chekov whispered the one question that no one said.

How was Spock supposed to chase after Jim now?

No one could answer either of them.

*

“Why the hell didn’t you just _tell_ me about the plans instead of poisoning me?” Khan grumbled as the two of them piloted the stolen cargo ship. They had left the quadrant a few hours back.

“Because you wouldn’t have believed me,” Jim answered calmly as he flipped the switches. 

“I would have, if you had explained.”

“No. Because it sounds too good to be true. You would have assumed that I was lying and that I was trying to play you. You would have chalked me up to the next Marcus and tried to kill me instead of aiding me in your escape.”

"I could have died."

"Ah, you'd be fine. You have magic blood."

Khan paused at Jim with a frown. But instead of pushing the topic, he changed it. “So what now, Captain? All of the Federation has become our enemy, and I highly doubt you want to hang out with the Klingons. Where are we going to go?”

“Well... There’s this uninhabited planet I found…”


	15. Wide Awake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drum roll please! We have finally arrived at the last chapter of this wonderful story. 
> 
> Many thank you's to annakas for your countless encouragements and original prompt. Without it, this story would never have existed. And thank you to all of you wonderful commenters and kudo-givers and readers. This story exists for your viewing pleasures. 
> 
> Thank you all for coming on this fun ride with me. And now I'll turn my attention to some of my other neglected works. ^^''
> 
> Please enjoy this chapter! It was written, edited, then erased and rewritten multiple times before this came to be. I'm hoping that it's the best possible of endings and that you're left with a sense of contentedness. Well, on with the story!

Jim liked this place. It was quiet and boring, just the way all worlds should be. Nothing ever happened here except for the occasional drama of who didn’t meet the harvesting quota or so-and-so stole someone’s things. And really, Jim appreciated the quiet, especially with all the screaming and chattering in his own head that he had yet to take care of. 

Khan was surprisingly very cooperative. He listened whenever Jim needed a friendly ear and was as over-attentive as a certain doctor whenever Jim felt even a little off. He also liked to give the excuse that Jim was a lot frailer than the others to keep Jim from working on building the places for them to sleep and for creating a field for farming for food. Jim always ignored that in favor of talking to the other augments, because working really wasn’t all that bad. It always made sure that he actually fell asleep at the end of the day.

The others were nice as well. They accepted his existence without a question, probably due to the looks that Khan shot them. But it was still a nice gesture on their part for taking him in and treating him as one of their own. Jim often spent nights listening to the old stories of the days when transporters didn’t exist and starships didn’t fill the skies. He listened to their war stories and couldn’t help the sinking feeling of how accurate his novels had been in his mind. But whenever they paused to ask if he was alright, he just smiled and brushed it off.

“Almost like you’ve been dropped off into a new society,” Gary said with a mockingly sage nod. “Hey! Isn’t this like that one story we had to read for school? You know, the dude that was raised by gorillas?”

“… You mean Tarzan?” Rose asked, looking at Gary excitedly. “Does that make Jim Jane?”

“Yeah! It’s like Jim’s Jane and he’s stuck in the society of gorillas!” Gary laughed heartily at that. “Ah, I guess that would make Khan your-”

“Don’t be stupid! I don’t want to hear it!” Jim snapped at them both. But by the time he turned to look at them, they were gone and the rest of the augments were looking at him with wounded expressions.

“So… sorry for bothering you…”

“Ah, wait! I didn’t mean…” But Jim couldn’t finish that, because they were already hurrying away, trying to get away from his temper, which might get them in trouble with Khan later. 

“Yes you did,” Janice said calmly, appearing just out of Jim’s peripheral vision. “You meant every word. You don’t want to hear anything anymore.”

“Janice-” Jim started then stopped himself. “You’re not even real.”

“You sound so disappointed,” Janice said with a soft sigh. “I thought you were going to work on getting rid of us for good. I thought Khan was helping you.”

“He was… He is,” Jim corrected himself. “But he has his own people to take care of. And I’m just… Just a science experiment. He’s not required to take care of me.”

“Just like you’re not required to continue to keep ghosts of us in your own head,” she pointed out. Even without seeing it, he knew that she had her arms crossed, and she was giving him a knowing look. “Jim, don’t you get tired of seeing and hearing us?”

“Don’t you mean don’t I get tired of being insane?” Jim grumbled as he buried his face in his hands. “Then tell me this, Janice. How do I get it to stop? How do I get rid of you?”

He paused for her to answer, but none came. He looked up from his hands and noticed with a start that he was alone again.

“Damn it all.”

*

Khan froze where he stood, staring at Jim in confusion. “But I don’t understand,” he began. “Why would-” He stopped when Jim held up his hand. 

“Look,” Jim said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me, but let’s be honest here. Khan, absolutely nothing has changed since three months ago.”

“These things take time,” the augment retorted, the earlier calm already replaced by a calculating look. “If you would just-”

“Let me finish,” Jim said, cutting him short again. “I’m just saying that I want to do this my way.”

“Jim, your way is to isolate yourself to your delusions. The best way to stop the voices in your head is to remind yourself what reality has to offer. Give yourself a reason to live again. That’s why I’ve been trying to get you to talk to my family.” Khan sounded frustrated. As if he just couldn’t understand why Jim would refuse something like this. As if he didn’t understand why anyone would not find sanctuary in his family.

“And I appreciate that. I really do. It’s just…”

“I’m not _him_ ,” Khan finished for Jim.

“What? What are you-?”

“Please, spare me from your feigned innocence. You don’t want to even get to know my family. No, not when you’re missing yours. You don’t want me to help you. You’re not even trying.” Khan’s lips curved up, but there was glint in his eyes that warned Jim of danger ahead. If there was one thing that Jim had been grateful about Khan’s crew being around, was that Khan gave warning signs before striking. Apparently Khan did that around his family to let them know when to back down.

But Jim wasn’t the type to back down just because of a warning.

“And if you were in my position, would you want to get involved in another's family? Would you try? Because seriously, I don’t even understand why you want to involve me in anything! Why the hell are you even trying to help me?”

“Because you gave everything up for me and my family,” Khan snapped. 

“I did it for Bones.”

“You were planning to break me out the minute you woke up,” Khan accused, his lips drawing back into a sneer. “Your little conscious wouldn’t have let you do anything less. You used your doctor as a pathetic excuse to try and pretend that you don't care at all.”

“So I’m a good person! So what?” Jim spat, because he just didn’t get it. Why was Khan so invested in this? “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m crazy and keeps hearing the voices of people who doesn’t exist anywhere except for in my own mind!” 

There was a pause as the two stared at each other, Jim seething with anger and Khan suddenly calm again. Oh no. Khan had _that_ look on his face. Jim had seen that look quite often enough, but the first time he had seen that look was in his own mind, with his ‘Will-to-Live.’ The look as Khan’s head put together the logic and the pieces that Jim had somehow dropped even without meaning to. The look as the gears churned and the light bulb came on.

“You’re scared.”

Jim froze.

“You’re scared,” Khan repeated, the faintest sign of smirk on the corner of his lips. “You don’t want those voices to leave. You don’t want to be sane again. Because that would mean that you have accepted reality. That you have accepted the fact that you have abandoned everything and have sided with me. That you no longer have your Vulcan by your side.” 

The blonde opened his mouth, trying to formulate something to say, but nothing came out. Instead, he just stared dumbfounded at Khan, body shaking from disbelief. The augment laughed, a loud barking sound that cruelly reminded Jim of the truth. Khan patted him on the shoulder, the humor never leaving his voice.

“But if it’s your desire is to stay in your cocoon of world forever, then so be it. I’ll leave you there to rot.”

Then Khan was gone, leaving Jim to collapse to his knees.

*

He lost track of time.

“It’s been a year, two days, and five hours standard time since you and Khan settled down on this planet,” Janice informed him. “On this planet, it’s really been nine months, three weeks, five days, and six hours. It's strange how time works differently everywhere, isn't it?”

Every day seemed to be the same. Nothing ever changed.

“It was snow, right?” Rosie asked with an innocently excited voice. “It was snowing yesterday! I mean, it was a different color than usual, but it was still snow!”

He lay still in the small hut that Khan had built for him at the corner of the small community that they had built in the past year. He hadn’t moved for a while now.

“Hey Jim, how long are you going to pretend to sleep? I’m bored! Let’s go do something!” Gary complained. “You’ve been at this for two days. Aren’t you bored?”

Maybe if he stayed like this forever, he could just drown himself in the mumblings of the people who didn’t exist. Maybe he wouldn’t be haunted by the one thing that he could never have again. Maybe he could just forget everything. Just do as Khan suggested. Get lost in the rhythm of a new life. A life with Khan and his family. A life without starships or Bones or Spock. A life without Janice or Gary or his stupid family...

“Do you hear that? Sounds like someone got into a fight again. Jeesh, they’re so loud.”

Jim barely had the time to consider what it was exactly that his mind believed he was hearing before the door to his hut was slammed open and Khan strutted in.

A nonsensical syllable left Jim’s mouth in question.

“Your Knight in Shining Armor is here,” Khan declared grandiosely, ignoring Jim’s unintelligible grunts. “So why don’t you get yourself presentable, _Captain_?”

Captain? Khan hadn’t called him that since Jim broke ties with everyone and everything. Jim had always thought it was because Khan was a lot more caring than he let on; because Khan didn’t want to remind Jim of everything he had given up for Khan. The blonde stayed still, just raised a single brow to let the augment know that he heard but didn’t really comprehend.

“Don’t be difficult,” Janice scolded. Jim could see the faint outline of her in the corner of his eyes. “You know exactly what he’s talking about.”

And he did, didn’t he? Of course he did. The fact that all of his subconscious people were bristling with excitement and anticipation spoke volumes. He felt his heart hammer in his chest and his cheek flush red, but despite all of that, he found that he couldn’t get up. His fingers twitched at his side, his head screamed at him to get up, Get Up, _GET UP, you stupid idiot! Before they decide to leave without you._ But his body felt strangely lethargic, almost as if the accumulation of all of his apathy from the past year had finally caught up with him.

“You’re such a child,” Khan sighed heavily before he offered his hand to Jim.

Jim wanted so much to explain to Khan that that wasn’t it. That he just couldn’t move. That he really did want to get up. And almost as if Khan understood that, he leaned over and just grabbed Jim by his shirt collar and lifted him up. Using the momentum, Jim stood shakily, leaning more heavily on Khan than he was really using his own two feet.

“No, Jim, you are not dreaming,” Khan whispered softly in Jim’s ear. His warm breath tickled, but Jim couldn’t even muster up the energy to smile. “And no, this is not in your head. They are really here. They came for you.”

The blonde didn’t ask exactly how Khan knew what to say. How it was that he was able to read Jim’s mind so easily. Perhaps he had always been this easy to read but never realized because people hadn’t tried to before? Or perhaps that was just because of their bond, grown stronger now that they've spent nearly a year with one another; the Augment trying to keep Jim alive, and the ex-captain just giving everything up... 

Khan continued to talk, somehow calming Jim down with his soothing baritone voice. “You don’t believe me? Then you’ll just have to see for yourself.” And with a simple movement, Khan lifted Jim up in bridal style with such ease that bruised Jim’s ego a little. But there was no time for that. He had to know. Was Khan really telling the truth? 

Were they really here?

Then Khan walked forward, carefully balancing Jim in his arms as he opened the door to the hut…

The light of the two suns felt surprisingly cold on his skin. Was that what freshly fallen snow smelt like? Because the chilly air that nipped at Jim’s nose was so different from what he used to smell back on Earth when it snowed. The world seemed to big and wide outside of the hut, beckoning him towards adventure and fun that promised danger. And for a strange second, he felt like himself again. He felt like the grinning Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise, going boldly forward into danger and missions, come hell or the Admirals.

“Cap-” the person stopped himself before trying again. “Jim.”

An uncertain giggle left Jim’s mouth as he stared disbelievingly at the sight before him. Here, on the foreign planet that the Augments had settled as their home, was the senior crew of the USS Enterprise, all giving him smiles of mixed emotions. The giggle blossomed into a chuckle before it grew into full-out laughter.

With the gentlest of all smiles, Khan slowly let Jim down on the ground, letting his bare feet touch the snow. But the blonde’s brain was not computing anything but the welcoming sight of his _family_ before him. His legs shook; hell, his entire body shook, whether from the cold or from all of the pent up energy, he wasn’t sure. He took an uncertain step forward, not sure if his legs could continue to hold up his body weight. And when it appeared as his legs were going to give out…

His crew ran forward and caught him, all of them talking a mile a minute.

And Jim realized with a start that he could no longer hear the imagery people in his mind. No, not when he had his crew speaking so loudly in his ear.

*

“How did you find me?” Jim finally managed to ask that night (after drinking lots of water-like substance and clearing his throat a gazillion times. His voice still sounded hoarse and strange), when they all sat around the small fire that the augments were nice enough to make for them. Jim had feared at first that they would ask questions, that they would gather around and disturb Jim’s time with his family. But Khan had just given him a knowing look and the rest of the augments had stayed away. For that, Jim shot Khan thankful looks.

“Well, it wasn’t easy, brat,” Leonard began, a fond smile on his face. “You really didn’t make it any easier either.” Then he launched into a tale of how they managed to track Jim down, how they had all worked together and how everything seemed to have gone to hell when they landed on a gold mine: the 5-year mission.

Jim took the moment to glance around the fire. On his left was Leonard, who was animatedly describing what happened after Jim left. Next to him was Sulu and Chekov, wrapped around each other but very contentedly listening to the story as they stared at Jim with relief. Next to them was Scotty and Uhura, whispering softly to each other but looking just relaxed. Uhura actually looked happy (not that she didn’t before, but she had always looked like she had to be something she wasn’t in order to be with Spock. With Scotty, she seemed to be able to be herself). Beside them was- surprisingly- Hendorff, laughing along with Leonard and interjecting with his own things to say as well. 

Lastly was Spock, who was right next to Jim. His hands wrapped securely around Jim, as if he was afraid that if he ever let go, Jim would vanish. Spock’s and Jim’s body were flushed together, as if desperate to cling tightly onto one another and never let go. It was the exact scenario he had dreamt of so long ago in a world that Jim had constructed in his mind. Of having Spock by his side as _his_. But back then, there had always been a reason not to. Jim had the Enterprise, he was the Captain. Spock had Uhura, he was the First Officer. But now... Now....

Spock’s hair had grown a little, and his eyes had a look of a haunted man, but his brown eyes were full of love when he looked at Jim. Jim wondered what Spock saw in his own blue eyes. If his own eyes reflected the love, if his own eyes shone with adoration and fucking _relief_. And with the faintest of all smiles, the Vulcan looked at Jim once Leonard’s story was finished to ask the question that everyone wanted to know.

“What now, Captain?”

“It’s Jim,” the blonde fixed right away. Because it felt wrong to be called Captain after so long. Because really, he wasn’t that man from a year ago. That man had died due to radiation poisoning. And the man before them all had grown, yes, but also changed. Something about self-induced crazies being cured seemed to cause things like that. He was sure that Khan could explain it with fancy words and eloquent dictation, but he really didn't feel like bringing up Khan right now. Because right now was a time for him and his crew.

“Jim, then,” Spock corrected, looking far too relieved that Jim felt a little guilty for rejecting him so long ago. _I should have never said that_ , Jim couldn't help but to think. _I shouldn't have hurt you._

Well, he better make it up to the Vulcan.

“Khan would probably be fine with us staying as long as we want,” Jim ventured to say. He watched carefully as his crew all made uncertain faces and just looked plain uncomfortable. Another soft laughter left his mouth, delighted by their reaction. Because it meant that they had just one plan in action once they found him.

“Did you drive my baby out here?” Jim asked.

“Jim, it is illogical for you to have a-” Leonard quickly cut Spock’s words short with, “Yeah, yeah. We drove the Enterprise here. After all, we’re on the 5-year mission, and Starfleet shouldn’t check up on us for a while. Why? You have a destination in mind?”

“It’s a place I’ve always wanted to go.”

The rest of the crew leaned in, looking excited at the prospect. With a wide grin, Jim declared, “Second star on the right. And straight on ‘till morning.”

Before anyone could let out a groan at the cliché, Spock smiled – honest to goodness, _smiled_ \- and said, “Quite logical, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be entirely honest, this story took a turn that I didn't quite expect. Bones was never supposed to have been arrested and Jim was supposed to have gone off the rocker crazy. This chapter was also supposed to have been from an outsider's POV, using the youngest augment in Khan's crew. 
> 
> Instead, this happened. I'm not too sure if I'm still satisfied with it, but I do like happy endings, so I'm not going to complain. :)


End file.
